


But in this twilight, our choices seal our fates

by artemis0135



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Complete AU, Cousin Incest, Gen, Implied Mpreg, Implied Sexual Content, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is Not a Targaryen, Jon Snow is a Stark, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow-centric, M/M, Male Bearers, Mpreg, No Beta, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Pretty Jon Snow, Prince Jon Snow, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, but that depends on each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 28
Words: 48,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis0135/pseuds/artemis0135
Summary: They say he was beautiful. Beautiful and willful and dead before his time.Complete AU. It is Jon, not Lyanna, who is the reason for the rebellion and the end of the Targaryen Dynasty.This story will include various drabbles and plot bunnies involving Jon paired with various canon male characters.





	1. Robert's Rebellion

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story in this fandom (and first story on this site), so I am both excited and nervous. I have written some chapters, but I finally worked up the courage to publish. These chapters are heavily influenced by fan music videos based on Lyanna and Rhaegar. I really really wanted to read a story about Jon being the reason for the rebellion in the first place, but haven't found any I loved, so I decided to wrote my own. In this universe, Lyanna did not run off with Rhaegar. That is not to say that storyline won't appear later on, but for now Jon will be the focus. 
> 
> As a heads up, I have not read the books or really watched the show. Everything I know about this fandom comes from fanfiction I have read through the years, so please be gentle if my details are not canon. I love fanfiction because it's an outlet for people to explore their ideas. I deeply admire the writers who do follow canon and I am in awe of their knowledge; however, that is not me, so if that is important to you, this story may not be for you. My ideas are really really AU, so keep that in mind. 
> 
> Please mind the tags, as this story will involve slash. If this is not something you are interested in, please do not read further. I have been in fandom as a reader for years and I know how passionate folks can get, but I will not tolerate rude comments.
> 
> Each chapter will have a different pairing, all involving Jon. 
> 
> For chapter 1, Jon is a Stark. Lyanna was not born, so the Stark family is made up of 4 boys: Brandon, Ned, Jon and Benjen. Ned has been fostered in the Vale and Robert really wants to be engaged to Ned's favorite sibling, Jon. Jon is not happy about this. Jon is not a Targaryen.

_“He is a good man, Jon,” Ned smiled as he looked at his brother’s face. Jon’s dubious stare did nothing to distract from his lovely face, instead it drew attention to his full pout. Ned’s eyes soften when he saw it. Gods, he had missed his brother’s sweet temper. He knew that in time Jon would be able to tame Robert’s wild ways. Jon, on the other hand, wanted to know why Ned kept insisting when all he wanted was to spend time with his older brother._

Jon’s answer came later as he sneaked about Winterfell and heard snippets about a possible engagement between himself and Robert Baratheon. To say he was displeased would be an understatement. Even though Jon had not had the opportunity to foster somewhere, he wasn’t stupid. Most people assumed he was a docile creature thanks to his bearer nature that they forgot he had an actual working brain inside his ears. Maybe his wolf’s blood didn’t run as hot as Brandon’s, but it still ran in his veins. It just took a lot for him to lose control of his inner wolf.

And this increased talk about an engagement with the future Lord of Storm’s End was getting to him. Jon had heard things about Robert Baratheon and none of it was good. He was a drunk and whoremonger. Qualities Jon did not want in a husband and yet, the man’s boisterous nature was used as an excuse. The man even had a bastard! And though Jon didn’t care about such things like southrons did, he still didn’t want to marry a man who would make it a habit to have illegitimate children spread across the seven kingdoms. Why his solemn, honorable and dutiful Ned, held such a man in high regard was a mystery to Jon. He would have thought Ned would view such behavior as despicable and dishonorable, but maybe the Vale changed him?

Jon quickly cut off such thoughts. Ned was part of the North. He was their Quiet Wolf. And although Jon loved his brothers dearly, especially Benjen, Jon’s relationship with Ned was different, stronger. Both of them were reserved and content to leave Brandon in the spotlight. Ned was also the one who pushed their Father to allow Jon to learn swordplay. Otherwise, he would have spent his days learning embroidery with a septa. What a septa could teach him about being a Northerner, he still didn’t know. The Seven had no place in the North.

But, somehow their Father had gotten in his head that as bearer, Jon was somehow more delicate, _weaker_, his mind whispered, _less of the North. _

Jon thought the opposite. Being able to carry children made him stronger. Made him more. Jon was more than a walking and talking womb, he was his own person with his own hopes and dreams and the thought of one day leaving Winterfell to marry someone like Robert Baratheon made him ill.

“Ned wouldn’t do that to me,” Jon whispered to himself, “Father wouldn’t do that to me."

They loved him.

* * *

Ned quickly ran up the steps, his heart beating in his ears. He was close, so close to seeing his baby brother, his Jon. It was all for him. Every battle he fought, every life he took was all to bring his brother home. To Winterfell where he belonged. He understand how going South had done nothing but bring misery and despair to their family. But no more, he promised. All that mattered was bringing Jon home.

He slammed the door open, uncaring of the screams and stopped when he saw a figure in a bed filled with blood and winter roses.

“Ned? Is that you big brother?” Jon whispered, as he felt more blood drain out of his body. He knew there was no hope. Not after hearing about what happened to Brandon and Father. Not after hearing about Princess Elia (the children, oh the children).

A sob of despair left his throat. Rhaegar. His Silver Prince. Rhaegar did not deserve to die, not when Jon loved him so.

He came back to himself as he felt large, callous hands on his feverish face. He tried to focus his eyes, but it is was getting harder to stay awake. But no matter his exhaustion, he had to be strong, now more than ever.

“Ned,” Jon whispered, closing his eyes, missing the panicked expression on Ned’s face.

“Someone get a maester!” Ned yelled and turned to Jon. His baby brother had always been pale, but not like this. Never like this!

_Not Jon!_ He inwardly screamed._ Not Jon, please not Jon! Not the Heart of Winterfell!_

“Ned,” Jon whispered and a tired smile appeared on his face, “You are here. Here with me,” and he gripped Ned's hands with all of his remaining strength. 

* * *

Ned came back to himself before the memories of that horrible day threatened to overwhelm him and yet he could still smell the scent of blood and winter roses all round him. 

_“Promise me, Ned, promise me!”_

Ned closed his eyes. Even now, more than a decade later, he could barely look at a winter rose without remembering what they had cost him. Had cost them all. He would have been content to never lay his eyes on another again, but he knew Jon loved them. Had died with a crown of winter roses on his head. 

_“Promise me, Ned, promise me!”_

“Did you have to bury him in a place like this? He should be on a hill somewhere with the sun and clouds above him,” Robert bellowed as tears ran down his cheeks. Years later and nothing could fill the hole Jon Stark had left behind. Not even Seven Kingdoms could make him forget that although he won the war, he had lost the only thing that truly ever matter.

Ned wanted to look away, but he saw Robert reach out to touch the Jon’s statue. A statue that was a poor mockery of Jon’s beauty. A statue that could never do justice to his wild black curls, large grey eyes and rosy full mouth.

A true Northern beauty.

But a dead one.

“He was my brother. This is what he would’ve wanted. This is where he belongs,” Ned quietly replied. Robert still couldn’t forgive him for refusing to have Jon buried in the capital. 

Ned had unwittingly denied Jon so many things in life that the thought of doing so in death made him curl up in shame.

_“Promise me, Ned, promise me!”_

“He belonged with me! In my dreams I kill him every night!” Robert shouted, unwilling to hear the truth in Ned’s voice. Jon had deserved** more**. Jon deserved to rule besides him as King Consort. As his equal. His only equal. Not that Lannister bitch!

He tried to conjure up Jon’s image in his mind and felt nothing but shame that after so many years, he could barely remembered what Jon looked like. That all he knew now was this cold statue in front of him. A cold statue that could never do justice to Winterfell's Heart. But, he remembered the feeling of Jon. That Jon was the only thing he ever wanted.

From the moment, Ned’s young dour face had lighted up when talking about Jon at the Vale, Robert had been enchanted. 

Jon, whose beauty was beyond compare.

Jon, whose sweetness extended to the smallfolk. 

Jon, who loved training with swords.

Jon, who loved horse riding and put many to shame with his skills.

Jon, whose laugh made heads turn.

It had all been for Jon.

_“Promise me, Ned, promise me!”_

_“I promise.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is implied that Jon and Rhaegar had a child together. Whether the events in GoT followed, well that is up to the reader.


	2. The Red Viper Who Wishes to Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn remembers Jon Stark and for one night, believed he could love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of ch.1, but in Oberyn's pov. Please enjoy!

To his shame, Oberyn can still remember the first time he saw Jon Stark. Nobody who met him could ever forget him. Not when his beauty outshone even Ashara’s.

Even after all these years, his memory of that day is clear and he can still recall the absolute pleasure he took in seeing the sour look on Cersei’s face when she first laid eyes on him.

“Behold the most beautiful creature in Westeros,” Oberyn cackled as Cersei’s face twisted in dismay as she took in Jon Stark.

At the time all he wanted was to bring the arrogant lioness down a few notches. Several years of a successful marriage and two children later, the Lannisters still refused to accept the marriage between Rhaegar and his sister. 

(And who would have guessed that one day the Lannisters would get their throne? And that the price to wear the crown was the bodies of his beloved family?)

All he wanted was to rub in their faces that although Cersei had a pretty face, it was not a beautiful one. Not anymore at least.

(He now wonders if his willingness to torment her is the reason his sister and her children are dead.)

But, even as he joked, he too was stunned as he took in Jon Stark’s snow-like complexion, and Oberyn watched avidly as those Northern eyes shone with fascination as he took in Harrenhal.

Though Oberyn would never admit it (not now, especially, not now), his breathe caught when those grey eyes looked straight at him. He felt himself stir at seeing a full pink mouth smile politely at him.

How Rickard Stark managed to keep his son’s beauty hidden for all the years, Oberyn could only guess. What in the Seven Hells the Old Wolf was thinking that Harrenhal was the right place to showcase it, haunts Oberyn to this day.

Jon Stark had been the beginning of it all.

(Oberyn will never know about the screaming match between father and son. The tears and screams Jon had howled when his engagement to Robert Baratheon became official. How Jon’s large grey eyes had looked at Rickard with betrayal and how he had blamed his beloved brother Ned for his misery. How Harrenhal had his last bid for freedom.)

But Harrenhal gave Oberyn enough information regarding the Stark family dynamics:

If Brandon Stark was the Wild Wolf, his dour brother, Eddard, the Quiet Wolf, and Benjen the Young Wolf, Jon was no wolf at all. He was simply Winterfell’s Heart.

(Oberyn laughs himself silly now when he looks back and shakes his head at his stupidity. Jon had turned to be the worst kind of predator. To seduce a married man and plunge the realm to war for whorish nature. And his sister paid the price.)

But back then all he remembers is pity. Because what kind of father calls his son the heart of his keep and then decides to betrothed him to Robert fucking Baratheon? Even though, the signs were clear that he was not a good man at his core.

(Three mutilated bodies covered in Lannister red. "Drawnspawn," Robert declared with a cruel smirk on his face.)

But, yes, he felt pity. Pity for the loveliest boy he ever laid eyes on. Because anyone with any sense in their head could see the pained smile on Jon’s face when he was forced in the presence of his betrothed. How his grey eyes desperately searched for an escape when Robert even glanced in his general direction.

He felt such pity that he asked Jon for a dance.

Thankfully, no one remembers or if they do, they don’t mention it to him, but he shared one dance with the man who would later steal his sister’s husband.

(As if Rhaegar hadn't gone willingly. As if Rhaegar hadn’t stared at Oberyn in jealousy during that dance. As if Elia hadn’t known and accepted it.)

One dance and to his shame he wanted more. Wanted to see that pink mouth smile. Wanted to see those grey eyes shine.

One dance and he knew Jon Stark was more than a lovely face. Oberyn had an inkling then on why he was called the heart of entire realm.

But, he buries his secret shame deep inside him. Has never told anyone. Will never tell that he once made plans to approach the Old Wolf for Jon’s hand. What was a Stag compared to a Prince of Dorne? Nothing, nothing at all.

(It was everything.)

Oberyn remembers, oh he remembers. Remembers Jon Stark and wishes he could forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have another idea for this pairing again. So be on the lookout for more Oberyn/Jon in later chapters.


	3. And finally a Crannogman who still remembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howland always had a touch of greensight and for as far as he could remember, he always saw a tower filled with the scent of blood and winter roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapters, but from Howland Reed's pov. Some of the dialogue is taken from Sansa and Petyr discussing Lyanna in the crypts.

Howland always dreamt of a tower filled with winter roses and the heavy stench of blood.

He had a touch of greensight, but no matter how hard he tried all he could see was death and despair.

(But, he also saw life)

He hadn't known what it meant, not then.

But, he knows _now_ it wouldn't have made a difference.

Robert Baratheon would still call his banners and Jon Stark would die in that damn Tower of Joy.

(A tower that brought anything but joy)

But Howland knows the nature of man and for the sake of his pride, Robert would never accept that the Heart of Winterfell loved another, not even if it saved the life of the man he claimed to love.

Howland remembers. He has too. Ned was gone. Gone South and everywhere he turns, Howland can hear the drum beats of war begin to sound.

Nothing is safe.

Nowhere is safe.

The South is on the brink of civil war and the dead march onward beyond the Wall.

Howland knows what it means because he still remembers and when he steps into the crypts of Winterfell and sees Jon's beloved child light up the candles and place a crown of winter roses on the statue's head, he knows. Knows that he can no longer remain silent.

* * *

_ "Lord Reed," the child of fire and ice greets him._

_Howland can see his birthright. Can see the dragon scales down his throat and across his chest. Scales only visible to those with magic in their veins. The legacy of his bearer's family sits beside him in the form of a white direwolf with blood red eyes. _

_"They say he was beautiful."_

_"He was," Howland whispers, "The most beautiful person in Westeros. He had no equal. But, it was not just his physical beauty, it was his heart too. The Heart of Winterfell, they called him."_

_"Father never spoke about him."_

_Oh Ned, Howland inwardly sighs, what was Ned thinking to leave the child of fire and ice so ignorant? _

_Foolish Ned. _

_"I met your Uncle Jon once. You see, I had never stepped foot outside the swamps of Greywater Watch before, but I felt compelled to go to the greatest tourney ever thrown, Harrenhal. It was the only thing the entire kingdom would speak out and I wanted to go. Unfortunately, I was but a boy then when I came across trouble in the form of petty squires. Your Uncle Jon saved me and invited me to stay with them in the Stark camp. "_

_Howland can see the hunger to know more in those strange grey/purple eyes. Blood calls to blood, Howland knows. Dragon's blood and wolf's blood. They always **know**._

_"Everyone was there," he continues, "The Mad King. All of your uncles. Robert Baratheon. Your Uncle Jon was already promised to Robert. It was exhilarating to see all these legendary heroes. Those legendary knights. The last joust was between Barristan Selmy and Rhaegar Targaryen. When Rhaegar won, everyone cheered for their Silver Prince. And when he took off his helmet, the people went mad to see his silver hair and how handsome he was,"_

_Howland sighs, "Until he rode past his wife, Elia Martell and all the smiles died. I have never seen so many people so quiet. And yet, he rode past his wife and laid a crown of winter roses on Jon's lap. Blue as frost. _ _How many __tens of thousands died and all because Robert Baratheon refused to face the truth?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Ned being the Hand of the King, whether the same GoT events take place...maybe. I don't name jon and Rhaegar's child and leave that up to the reader.


	4. The Iron Underneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all saw his beauty, but never the iron underneath.

The North remembers.

Winterfell in particular.

The Starks have ruled the North for 8,000 uninterrupted years and it is only now that its Lord has forgotten.

Forgotten the magic that runs across every person in the North.

How the Godswood blessed the Starks with its protection.

The North remembers even as Man forgot.

And just like Jon Stark cried and howled when his engagement to Robert Baratheon become official, so did the North.

So did its people.

The Heart of Winterfell given away to a Southron drunkard!

The indignity! 

The shame!

How could Rickard Stark break fealty so easily and fail to recognize why it took dragons for the North to bend the knee?

Winterfell was more than a castle, a keep.

Its people was its protection and its people had give their loyalty, their love to Jon.

Only they saw how little their Lord understood his child.

Every servant remembers Jon's smile. His goodness. His kindness.

They remember how hard he worked to improve their lives.

How he made sure their children had provisions for winter.

How he always opened the doors for them to learn how to read, how to write.

They remembered and they loved him for it.

And it saddened them to know that only they saw beyond his beauty to see see the iron underneath.

They saw how quick he was with his sword and how wild, how free he looked with he rode his horse.

They knew that Jon had never been kidnapped. They knew he had gone willingly. 

They felt the truth in their bones.

The North loved Jon and he loved them in return.

They did not need to see their new Lord Eddard Stark come through its gate to know that Winterfell's Heart was dead.

They had felt that light be snuffed out moons ago. 

It would have been so easy then to fall into despair. Too easy when their new Lord allowed his southron wife too many liberties. It made their blood boil to know that an upstart southron lived while their Heart did not. 

But that rage soon gave away when they sensed the truth behind their Lord's bastard.

The weirwood heart tree had whispered the truth to their faithful ears with glee. 

The child of fire and ice!

A child of _love._

The child Winterfell's Heart had give his life for.

They couldn't protect their Heart before, but they wouldn't fall again.

The North remembers and when the time came, they would happily bend the knee to their Targaryen Wolf. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out more mystical than I expected, but I like it. I don't know if I will expand on it, but in this universe, Catelyn is barely tolerated and all the servants make sure to protect Jon's child. As a heads up, I am not a fan of Catelyn at all. I know some folks love her, but I am not one of them and it will show in my work.


	5. But the truth remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was Robert, not Ned who found Lyanna at the Tower of Joy.
> 
> Future Pairings: Jon Sand (Snow)/Robb Stark and Jon Sand/Joffrey Baratheon (one-sided). Different universe from the previous 4 chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll with writing/editing new chapters. However, this will not be an everyday thing. I have school during the week and will be working on the weekends. But, for right now, I just need to get some of my ideas on paper. Anyways, please enjoy the new chapter!

It shames Robert to admit to himself that after so many years he can barely remembered what Lyanna looked like. All he knows is that she was the only thing he ever wanted.

He tries to remember her smile, her grey eyes, her dark hair, but even now all he sees his son, Jon Sand.

Maybe if Jon looked like a Targaryen, it would have be different. If instead of black curls, he had silver hair. If instead of grey eyes, he had purple ones. But the more he stares at his son, the more he begins to wonder if in fact he is their child. His and Lyanna's. 

He doesn't have the look of a dragon.

And maybe that his salvation. Maybe that is the reason why Robert keeps his promise after all these years.

_"Promise me, Robert, promise me!"_

It still hurts him to remember his ferocious she-wolf be brought so low. To hear her cries, to see her wild eyes beg for her son.

Sometimes he lays awake at night and wonders about the truth. Wonders if Jon is dragonspawn or rapespawn.

(He doesn't know which one is worse)

He wonders if Lyanna was kidnapped or if she went willingly.

(He doesn't know which one he prefers) 

But, he knows that in the end it doesn't matter at all. He will keep his promise.

Snow, Sand or Targaryen.

It doesn't matter at all. 

_"Promise me, Robert, promise me!"_

_"I promise."_


	6. All the King's Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dragonknight is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of ch. 5.

Jaime laughs.

He laughs and he cries and he screams.

He knows he failed.

He failed his brotherhood.

Gods, he had been knighted by the Sword of the Morning himself. Knighted for his bravery.

He doesn’t feel brave now.

He feels empty. Cold. Disillusioned.

He failed his Silver Prince.

_“When this battle is done, I mean to call a council. Changes will be made.”_

_“We shall talk when I return,”_

_ “Protect my family, Jaime.” _

But Rhaegar never returned, would never come back and Jaime had no other choice but to stab Aerys in the back.

He unknowingly sat on that blasted ugly chair as Princess Elia and her children were butchered on the other side of the castle.

He failed himself.

Kingslayer, they call him.

As if they all hadn't stayed silent throughout Aerys’ madness.

Yes, he is a Kingslayer (_THE_ Kingslayer to be honest), but he won't let them make him feel ashamed. 

He doesn’t know what he would have done if Robert fucking Baratheon hadn’t come back with Lyanna Stark’s corpse behind him and his Dornish bastard in his arms.

Jaime never would have pegged Robert for a sentimental fool, but no matter how much Cersei raged, he couldn’t find it in himself to hate the child.

He couldn’t help but wonder why Robert kept his bastard so close to him though. Wouldn’t allow anyone but the Dornish wet-nurse he brought back near the child. But most of all, why Robert wouldn’t allow Jaime anywhere near it.

Robert was very much obvious in his disregard for Jaime. But, Jaime could see how much effort it took Robert to rein himself in and not draw attention to the fact that he didn’t want Jaime near the bastard.

Not that it mattered in the beginning. He hadn’t particularly cared about his fate. Whether he was imprisoned, executed, sent off to the Wall or sent back to the Rock. Nothing mattered then.

It wasn’t until Eddard Stark stormed off with his sister’s body that clued him in.

Oh how, Stark had screamed, his face purpling in anger after hearing Robert call Rhaegar’s children dragonspawn.

Jaime closes his eyes and remembers a little girl with a wide smile holding a large, grumpy black cat and a silver haired baby who cried for his mother’s arms. They weren’t dragonspawn, they were innocent. It was murder not war.

He wondered then if he had exchanged one hellhole for another.

He had spent three horrifying years in the Red Keep, shadowing the royal family, keeping them safe (but not safe enough, oh never safe enough when he saw three corpses wrapped in Lannister red) that he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his days watching Robert drink and whore himself to an early grave.

But, in those three years, if he had learnt anything at all it was how easily he recognized Targaryen lines.

Oh, he knew when he finally saw Robert’s bastard up close. Because beyond the child’s black hair and grey eyes, Jaime could see Prince Rhaegar. Could see Queen Rhaella staring back at him.

So, Jaime laughs after the shock wears off.

He laughs and laughs until he finds himself in his room sobbing into his knees.

“Dragonspawn,” he whispers to himself.

_“Protect my family, Jaime.”_

It is too easy to overlook now, but back then, Jaime had admired Prince Rhaegar. Had respected him. He like so many others had loved him and trusted him to bring an end to the Mad King's reign. And Jaime had felt nothing but hatred towards Lyanna Stark for tempting the Silver Prince away.

And hadn’t that been a kick to the balls? To realize that the man Jaime admired was still a man underneath his princely attire? That he could lust after another man’s betrothed and plunge the entire kingdom to civil war over her.

Westeros may no longer remember what Lyanna Stark looked like, but Jaime does. Yes, she was pretty with her wild hair and impish smile, but she was no Cersei. She was not Ashara Dayne nor was she Princess Elia Martell. She was just a girl.

How could Robert so easily dismiss Princess Elia’s children, but keep Lyanna’s child safe?

How?

The true king of Westeros being raised by the man who killed his father as his bastard. The same man who relished in the deaths of his sister and baby brother.

What madness was this?

Jaime grips his hair and screams.

_“Protect my family, Jaime.”_

“Yes, Your Grace,” he promises to an empty room.

Jaime doesn’t know what in the Seven hells Robert was thinking, is thinking with this farce, but he will redeem himself. He will keep his promise to his Silver Prince. He will keep his son safe.

And if he has to become a Kingslayer again, well, he didn’t feel regret the first time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Jon is going to grow up to become Westeros precious treasure.


	7. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh the things Jaime does for love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Jaime pov. Platonic Jaime/Jon. Robert and Jaime are both aware that the other knows Jon true parentage, but they are willing to overlook their dislike to keep him safe. 
> 
> Warnings: murder
> 
> Future Pairings: Jon Sand (Snow)/Robb Stark and Jon Sand/Joffrey Baratheon (one-sided). Different universe that begins on ch.5.

Jaime promised to keep the last dragon safe. For Prince Rhaegar. For himself. But now, he keeps his promise for Jon himself. For large grey eyes that looked at him with love and affection. With trust. And Jaime will stop at nothing to make sure that those eyes continue to shine.

Jaime would never have his father’s tactical mind nor Tyrion’s cleverness, but the one thing he had over them was his strength. Jaime was a warrior. A prodigy with a sword. And as long as he thought of his enemies as opponents in a meele, he knew Jon would be safe.

That one day Cersei would be such an enemy is unfortunate, but unsurprising.

He had hoped that she wouldn’t be. That she would be satisfied with her crown, a crown bought with the blood of Princess Elia and her children. But, his twin was always too ambitious. Too proud.

Jaime knew that the kisses and touches they shared when they younger were wrong. But, he had always seen himself as her other half. A mirror image. They had shared the same womb after all, so why not their bodies? Jaime being knighted and later held hostage by Aerys as a part of the Kingsguard was nothing but a blessing in disguise in retrospect.

He knew that Cersei viewed Jon’s presence as an insult. Oh, how she had raged when Robert insisted in keeping him close. But he wanted to believe that his twin was above murdering an innocent child.

But, Jaime stupidly forgot that Cersei viewed herself Tywin’s true heir. The same man behind three mangled bodies wrapped in Lannister red.

Him outright rejecting her so soon after the wedding and his appointment by Robert to watch over Jon only egged on her paranoia and anger.

And how quickly Robert’s love for his Dornish bastard spread across the Seven Kingdoms! Jaime had only feared Dorne’s attempt to kill Jon. The Dornish would always carry enmity towards him. He was either Robert’s beloved royal bastard or the last dragon. Even now, he doesn’t know whether Jon is a Targaryen or a Blackfyre. He suspects Robert doesn’t know either. And the part of him that is still Tywin’s son takes pleasure in knowing how it must eat away at Robert to not _know_.

So Jaime kept a close eye on the Dornish and but still kept an eye on Cersei too. Because no matter how much he wanted to believe that she had more honor than she actually possessed she was still Cersei and the Lannisters would never be known for their honor. 

It is a good thing he did. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have seen the assassination attempt coming.

More than anything he had been surprised Cersei had stilled her hand for so long. She had always been too impulsive with no interest in playing the long game. It was probably self-preservation more than anything. She needed to give birth to an heir to keep herself safe. By then, it was obvious, she and Robert would have a cold, unhappy marriage. Robert still beholden to Lyanna's ghost and Cersei offense at his obvious love for Jon too much for them to ever make peace. 

(Cersei giving birth to a male heir only made her paranoia worse. She couldn’t stand knowing that Robert’s bastard had the King wrapped around his fingers. Feared for the day he would be made heir over her precious Joffrey. But having Robert was not enough, Jaime, her better half also fell under the bastard’s spell. Oh, how she hated that Dornish bastard! He was unnatural with his quiet presence and melancholy air about him. She knew then that he wasn’t the son of some whore or camp follower. Already he had a prettiness about him that would one day melt away and leave behind a beguiling beauty.

_Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear. _Every time she laid eyes on the bastard those words haunted her thoughts)

Jaime knew his twin. She was his other half after all. And her one mistake was forgetting that although she was Tywin’s true heir, he was his son too. So he waited while she languished in her bed still feverish after her miscarriage to stop her madness. Jaime wasn't stupid. Cersei would never give up and as long as she lived, Jon would never be safe. It was only right as her twin to give her a merciful death.

Jon needed to be kept safe. He was his dragonknight after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey isn't Jaime's son, but he isn't Robert's either. His father is probably another Lannister. No Tommen and Myrcella in this universe. And Jaime is a little deranged, but after surviving Aerys and Westeros lack of mental health assistance, he is holding on as best he can.


	8. I found a son, only to see a man become undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned wants to know why he dreams of a room filled with blood, winter roses and the soft cries of a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter was inspired by the lyrics from The Last Stand by Koda. 
> 
> Future Pairings: Jon Sand (Snow)/Robb Stark and Jon Sand/Joffrey Baratheon (one-sided). Continuation of ch.5.

Ned stands before his sister’s statue and wonders how he could be so foolish. They should have heeded the warning signs then, but they had forgotten why Starks don’t fare well South. Instead, his father’s ambitions and his love for Robert overrode everything only to cost them dearly in the end:

Their father burnt alive for the entertainment of a Mad King and his spineless court.

Brandon desperately trying to save their father only to end up strangled. 

Lyanna dying far from home in Dorne. 

Benjen, disillusioned and broken, trying to find redemption at the Wall. 

And himself shackled to a southron woman whose alien ways make him flinch. Maybe in another life they would have found common ground, maybe even love if not mutual affection. But every time Ned looks at her all he can see is Hoster Tully using his family’s deaths to net himself a Lord Paramount. 

Ned doesn’t even have the energy to care how cold she becomes throughout the years. Her anger at his refusal to allow the Seven, much less a sept, in his lands fueling her temper. That he had outright laughed at allowing a septa to teach his children hadn’t helped.

But, who was a trout to dictate to a wolf how he should run his keep?

For 8,000 years the Starks have ruled and only once bent the knee to the dragons, while the trouts were raised from obscurity by the Targaryens. And yet, the Tullys still betrayed them in the end. Traded their daughters’ cunts for power. 

Southrons have no honor that much is clear to him.

He stands in front of his sister’s statue and desperately wants to know why he dreams of a room filled with blood, winter roses and the soft cries of a child every night. 

Ned never told Robert, but he too made him way to Dorne only to arrive at the Tower of Joy to see the rotting dead bodies of the Kingsguard. All he remembered then was the fear pumping in his veins.

He remembers running up the stairs only to find an empty room with the stale scent of blood and dead winter roses.

He hadn’t known then that Robert arrived earlier. Hadn’t known the secret Robert took with him. 

But unlike Robert he tore the room apart and found the small chest filled with the most damning of papers:

Lyanna hadn’t been kidnapped, she had gone willingly and married the Silver Prince.

Ned hides the truth. Hides that chest even as he faces Robert and takes his sister’s body home. He waits and waits for the day Robert will call him out on his lie, but that day never comes. It is then that Ned confirms that Robert never knew. He had taken his sister body and never looked any further. 

Who is Ned to not count his blessings, no matter how small?

He waits though. He waits and wait and knows that the consequences from the ill-fated union between his sister and Rhaegar are far from over.

He waits exactly fifteen years to the day when he receives a raven from Kings Landing. 

Fifteen years later and Robert wants to come North accompanied by the Crown Prince and his beloved royal bastard.

Ned feels it in the air all around, especially in the crypts. This is the sign he has been waiting for. He spares no time and no expense in ensuring Winterfell is ready.

Fifteen years later and he knows why he dreams of a room filled with blood, winter roses and the cries of a child. He knows the exact moment he lays eyes on Jon Sand, Robert’s beloved bastard.

It is like he is looking in the past only to come face to face with the ghost of his sister. His Stark coloring brought out in exquisite detail in the furs he wears.

He is Lyanna’s child. 

But, he is Rhaegar’s child too. 

Lyanna’s girlish prettiness refined by Targaryen lines. A lethal combination when he takes in the large grey eyes surrounded by thick black lashes and the full red pout. Winter becomes him with his snow-like complexion and his raven curls. 

All Ned can do is stare, Robert’s guilty expression barely registering in his head. He becomes numb to the rest of the introductions, missing the exact moment Robb and Jon meet, setting their demise in motion. 

Fifteen years.

For fifteen fucking years Lyanna’s child was raised by the man who indirectly lead her to an early grave.

And he feels it then, his inner wolf howling in rage. How dare he! How dare Robert keep a wolf cub from their pack?!

It takes everything he has to not kill Robert where he stands. Robert knows, can see the murderous look in his Stark grey eyes.

He drags him off to the crypts before Ned can rage at him for his lies, for this betrayal. He doesn’t hesitate then to knock Robert out before he gets one word out and Robert does nothing to stop him. 

Fifteen years ago Ned called his banners to avenge his family’s murder. He will call on them again to protect the only piece of Lyanna left in this world. 

Rhargar plunged the Seven Kingdoms to war for a she-wolf. He annulled his marriage to a Princess of Dorne for her. It is only fitting that their child wears the crown intended for him by both his parents.

But before all of that can come to pass, this much is clear: Lyanna’s child is finally home and Ned will not fail his sister again.


	9. Well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unholy alliance is made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Future Pairings: Jon Sand (Snow)/Robb Stark and Jon Sand/Joffrey Baratheon (one-sided). Continuation of ch.5.

The last time Jaime saw Ned Stark was when he took his sister's body back to Winterfell. He remembers Stark's anger at Robert for condoning the murder of Princess Elia and her children. Remembers how his grim face called him Kingslayer and his visible disgust in Robert's refusal to punish him for his finest act. But, since that day, Jaime never thought of Ned Stark again.

It is only when the royal party arrives to Winterfell fifteen years later that he realizes for first time that Jon had Stark coloring. His grey eyes and dark hair so similar to Ned Stark that it left no doubt to who his mother was. Jaime never thought of Lyanna as Jon's mother in those exact terms before. Not since the moment he saw him and recognized the Targaryen in him. And yet, the moment Jon donned his furs to go North, Jaime had been struck by how Northern he looked. Instead of drowning him, the furs only highlighted his fairness and beauty.

Jaime witnesses the exact moment Ned Stark first lays eyes on Jon. He knows then that he recognizes Jon for who he is. Sees the anger build in those grey eyes. Sees the murder in them and the wolf in the forefront when he glances at Robert. Knows that if Ned could kill Robert with his bare hands he would.

He doesn't know what comes to pass when Robert quickly drags him off to the crypts to pay his respects to his One True Northern Love. Not yet at least. It is once he sees Robert bruised face later that night that Jaime understands. 

For now, his duty is to guard Jon. To keep Jon safe. 

Jon who has captured the attention of Winterfell itself. No matter where he goes, a quiet hush follows him and the servants bow deeply, _reverently_. For they recognize their lost she-wolf in him.

The heir of Winterfell also follows. His Tully eyes admire how white Jon's throat looks when he throws his head back and laughs out loud. He doesn't appear to even be breathing when he spies Jon bite down on his plump red lips. 

Jaime sees all of this. Sees how Jon looks at Robb Stark with a shy look in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks in return. In his amusement, he almost misses how Joffrey's face twists in jealousy, but now that he sees it, he can't look away. For as long as he could remember, Joffrey had always had a soft spot for Jon. He always made sure to punish those that whispered the word bastard behind their backs and even though he never called him brother, cared for him.

But, Joffrey was more his mother's son than anyone realized. Jaime can see Cersei in his green eyes and it sends a chill down his spine. His sister had been always been overly possessive and ruthless with those she perceived to have stepped on her privileges. Jaime understands in that moment why Joffrey never called Jon brother and why he would scowl when Jon did: Joffrey never saw Jon as his brother. He saw him as his future lover.

Jaime knows where this is going. Can feel it in bones and knows he is powerless to stop it. He had always seen the Targaryen in Jon, so much so that he forgot that Jon was truly his mother's son. And just like his mother before him, tens of thousands will die for him. 

* * *

Jaime was surprised to see the crypts filled with so many candles, but he continues to walk further in and makes his way to what he assumes to be Lyanna Stark's statue. It is the only female statue in the damn place and it is guarded by two stone direwolves.

"Much too late for that," Jaime whispers to himself as he takes in the statue's features. Years later he still can't understand what Prince Rhaegar saw in her. Jon may have the Stark coloring, but his beauty was something else. 

"Robert calls you Jon's Dragonknight," Stark's voice comes behind him, surprising him as he didn't hear him coming. But, it is the tone that really catches his attention. Stark says those words with such dark amusement that Jaime is surprised he is even capable of it in the first place. 

He says nothing and only raises an unimpressed brow. He wanted to be done with the cloak and dagger routine as soon as possible. And even though he was curious on why Stark summoned him at such a late hour, he had more important things to do. Like trying to keep Jon from meeting with Robb Stark alone. The last time a Targaryen met a Stark alone civil war broke out. And even though Jaime knew it was hopeless and much too late, he still wanted to try. Maybe it would stall the unfolding tragedy before them. 

He only hopes that Joffrey will refuse to leave Jon alone for the night. Not that that makes the situation any better, but at least he knows Robb Stark won't try to pull a Rhaegar on them all.

Stark doesn't even wait for a response as he stands next to him and they both look at Lyanna's statue.

"Winterfell has mourned her lost she-wolf for fifteen years. For fifteen fucking years I have wondered how I failed my sister. Only now does Robert have the balls to confess to what he has done. As he tells it I should be grateful he kept his promise to Lyanna and didn't kill her child. Jon wasn't enough dragonspawn for him to kill, I guess," Stark says, his anger present in every word that he utters.

Jaime says nothing, he doesn't think Stark is even expecting a response from him.

"The Lannisters are the reason Princess Elia and her children are dead. Your father and sister wanted that damn crown so much even if it came at the expense of innocent lives. I wonder about you, Kingslayer. Your sister is dead, but her child still lives. Your father is effectively banished to the Rock and yet, his grandchild is Crown Prince. You have guarded a Dragon for fifteen years and I want to know why," cold grey eyes look at him.

In that moment, he can see how Stark was able to lead armies in the name of his sister. 

"He is Prince Rhaegar's child." It is the only response Jaime can give. Can give anyone really. Because his white cloak had meant something to him once. And although he was still angry at Prince Rhaegar for the decisions he made, he comforts himself with the knowledge that his child still lives.

Stark's eyes flicker, "Robert protects Jon in the name of my sister. I am honestly surprised he hasn't married him off to your nephew."

Jaime wrinkles his nose, "Robert raised them as brothers. He probably sees such an engagement as acknowledging his "filthy" Targaryen roots." 

"For Prince Rhaegar?" Stark asks.

"For Prince Rhaegar then. For Jon now."

"And what are you willing to do to keep your _Prince_ safe, _Kingslayer_?" Stark asks, his gaze dark. 

Green eyes widen as Stark's words repeat themselves inside his head. He had already committed great sins in keeping Jon safe, what is one sin more?

"Anything. Everything.”

For the first time, Jaime sees Stark smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that I am going back to past chapters and editing them. Thanks for reading!


	10. Robb's Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb’s Rebellion was built on a lie. Jon Targaryen never loved Robb Stark, he loved King Stannis Baratheon. And Stannis loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different plot line from the previous 9 chapters. 
> 
> This is inspired by stargazed's work, "What if we never know why hearts deceive us" on this site. I would add a link, but I don't know how. Please do read it though. Although it is in progress, I enjoyed it a lot. 
> 
> In stargazed's world, the Baratheons are actually the rulers, while the Targaryens rule over Dorne. It is set in a world with a/b/o dynamics. Just a quick summary (SPOILERS): Jon's parents, Lyanna and Rhaegar, want to marry him off to Robb. But, no matter how hard Jon tries to befriend him, Robb hates him. Ultimately, they decided (with Viserys and Daenerys support) to stop trying and set their hopes on Stannis. The Starks come to Dorme to visit during one summer and sparks fly when Robb and Jon set eyes on each other...
> 
> In my universe though, there are no a/b/o dynamics. The Baratheons preside over Kings Landing while Storm's End is used by the Crown Prince or former Crown Prince. The Targaryens rule over Dragonstone instead. Everything else is the same though. This sets the stage for the following tragedy....
> 
> Warnings: off-screen rape/non-con (spoke about and implied) and murder

Over a decade later and Tyrion wonders what madness has beholden Westeros. He wonders when his cleverness will no longer be enough and Jon’s child will pay the price.

A wave of sadness grips his heart and his eyes tear up when he thinks about Jon. Jon, who didn’t deserve to die. Not the way he did in a tower filled with the scent of blood and winter roses.

Jon whose grey eyes filled with laughter as he ran through Dragonstone playing with the children. Jon’s whose heart was too big for such a small body. Oh, how he loved the smallfolk! How sweet his voice sounded as he sang in the streets. How his clever hands played the harp and brought tears to everyone’s eyes. 

Jon had deserved much more than the horror that befell him. 

After all this years, Tyrion doesn’t know who he blames more:

Rhaegar and Lyanna for once pushing Jon’s engagement to Robb Stark. Why in the Seven hells they wanted to tie their family to the Starks even more, Tyrion can’t even begin to guess. Wasn’t it enough that her brother was Warden of the North?

Though he didn’t know the particulars, he heard enough from Arya. How Robb had been cruel to Jon as children. How he had rejected his friendship and made his time at Winterfell miserable. How Robb had rejoiced when his parents finally decided to betrothed him to Margaery Tyrell instead.

How Robb went from hating Jon to kidnapping him and rap-……

Tyrion quickly cuts that train of thought. He doesn’t want to remember Jon’s final moments. Not when he had been filled with so much life. And that is what gets him through. He needs to remember Jon’s sweet smile. How wild his black curls looked after training with his sword. How he laughed at Tyrion’s wit.

Jon had been the only know to truly see beyond his deformity and appreciate his cleverness.

_“Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you,” Jon whispered as he wiped his tears after one too many cruel remarks._

Tyrion takes a deep breathe before the memories threatened to overwhelm him. 

Damn Cersei and Jaime for plunging the realm into a succession crisis when the true parentage of the three heirs came out.

How could Cersei be so stupid!?

She finally had her blasted crown and yet she threw it all away. It was just like Cersei think herself so above everyone else. Arrogant enough to think that she could actually get away with masquerading three lion cubs as stags. 

It wasn’t until she faced the executioner’s block that it finally dawned on her that their father wouldn't left a finger to save her. Tywin wasn’t going to have the Lannister legacy die with him. And if his golden twins had to die, if his grandchildren twice over had to be sacrificed, well Tywin had made worse deals in the past. It had become his obsession later in life to erase the humiliation his golden children had dealt his house.

Without the succession crisis, Stannis would have been able to marry Jon and keep him safe as Prince of Storm’s End. Instead, all of his attention was focused on calming down his brother’s rage.

And maybe Robert is to blame. Maybe all of this could have been prevented if Robert hadn’t been such a whoring drunkard. If he had been more responsible instead of pissing away the realm’s gold to fuel his excesses. 

But to everyone’s misfortunate, Robert was the heir and later the king. His idiocy in ruling gave Robb and his ilk the excuse they needed to rebel. And as the battle drums beat all around them, he used the direwolf banner to enter Dragonstone and kidnap Jon.

Damn Stannis for not being charismatic enough! It had been to easy to make the smallfolk believe that Jon and Robb were star-cross lovers. Much easier to believe then the truth: 

Jon loved Stannis. 

Jon hadn’t cared that Stannis was older, stern and cold from his previous childless marriage.

And Tyrion could see how Jon softened Stannis gruff exterior. How gentle his smile was when he looked at Jon. How his hard blue eyes melted when he saw wild black curls.

Jon had fought, oh how he fought when he saw the direwolf banners cut through the castle. He fought and he lost. His parents easily fell, stunned at the betrayal of their kin.

The castle had been littered with bodies. Lyanna and Rhaegar mutilated with a hundred stab wounds each. Tyrion was there when he saw Stannis’ eyes fill with rage to see Viserys body unrecognizable and his Dragon Prince gone. He had died protecting his nephew.

(Viserys died seeing large grey eyes beg for his life. He died hearing Jon’s scream his name, his hand reaching out to him as he was forcefully taken away)

(Robb took particular pleasure in cutting him down. He blamed the dragon for keeping Jon away from him. For finally convincing his Uncle Rhaegar to end his engagement with Jon. He needed to find Daenerys soon and then his revenge would be complete)

Robb may lie and Tyrion may help him spread those lies, but Dragonstone remembers. They know who Jon loved.

Regardless of this madness that has befallen them, Tyrion needs to keep Jon’s child safe. Because even though the father is Robb, he made a promise.

_“Promise me!” Jon shouted as his grey eyes begged him. He tightly held his and Arya’s hands with all his remaining strength and he begged over and over to please keep his son safe. The last dragon, the last Targaryen, safe. They had lost so much already! But not his son, not his boy. _

_“Jon,” Arya snarled, “That child-”_

_Blood continue to fill the bed and they could both see Jon slowly lose his grip on life. _

_All around them bodies littered the floor. _ _Arya felt no shame that she had struck down Stark bannerman. They had all broken fealty the moment they followed Robb in this madness. The moment they murdered the Targaryen family._

_“It is not his fault! Not his fault! Promise me to keep him safe,” Jon begged, “I love my child, my son, please!”_

_Tyrion wanted to look away, couldn’t bear to look at Jon and he felt a sob escaped his throat. _

_Jon, oh sweet Jon, had deserved more than dying in a room filled with the scent of his own blood and winter roses, a constant reminder of the man who raped him._

_“I promise,” Tyrion whispers. _

Yes, Tyrion will lie and Arya hates him for it. 

But, they **both** promised. 

All around them, the drum beats with the sounds of upcoming war once again. 

King Stannis killed at the Trident by a gleeful Robb ending the Baratheon line forever. 

House Targaryen decimated with only a Targaryen wolf as its only member. 

House Tyrell plotting. Still humiliated that their Rose was spurned so many years ago. 

Dorne slowly seceding from the kingdom.

And Robb, whose cruelty was slowly spiraling out of control. Tyrion blames him most of all.

But, Tyrion continues to stands as Lord Lannister. He stands and he must keep standing. Because every time he looks at Jon’s child, he sees Jon staring back him. 

_“Promise me!”_

_“I promise.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like Jon and Tyrion's relationship here and y'all will see this dynamic play out again in later chapters.


	11. Mirage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey may not have Robert’s blood, but he was his son in all the ways that matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of ch.5-10  
Future Pairings: Jon Sand (Snow)/Robb Stark and Jon Sand/Joffrey Baratheon (one-sided).

There was something unsettling about Joffrey. Robert did not want to admit it, not out loud anyways. He didn’t even trust his Hand, who was like a second father to him, and confess how he feared his death. Not because he scared of dying, but because it would make Joffrey king, another Mad King to mark the end of his legacy.

No, he kept quiet instead and tried to pinpoint why Joffrey made the hair on his neck stand up. Robert was many things and he embraced his flaws. He never pretended to be anything but the man he was. He accepted long ago that he loved his wine and his whores far too much to ever give up, but at his core he was a hunter. He knew instinctively when prey was near and knew when it was best to leave the forrest no matter how serene the trees looked. 

Yes, Robert was a hunter and there is something about Joffrey that makes him feel like he is the one being hunted. Every time he sees those cat-like green eyes he feels like he has a bullseyes on his back.

Sometimes seeing those green eyes makes him feel nauseous and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t have the same reaction in the Kingslayer’s presence. That is one of the only few reasons he allows him anywhere near Jon.

Robert can freely admit there was little love between Cersei and himself. Although she had been beautiful, she never stirred him. She had been nothing but a pretty decoration wearing the crown that should have been Lyanna’s. 

Yes, Cersei had been pretty to look at, but her beauty shattered the moment she opened her mouth about Jon. Robert knew that if she ever guessed Jon’s parentage, he would soon find his small body wrapped in Lannister red. And this time, he knew he would slaughter the lions for daring to take the only piece of Lyanna left in this world. 

When she had died so soon after their ill-fated marriage, he had cried very few tears. His only lament was that he would be pressured by his council to marry again. Now, he wishes he had heeded their advice. Maybe then he would have a spare if his misgivings were proven right.

It would have been so much easier if Joffrey had been outright cruel. If he had tortured small animals or tormented other children. Though Robert would have had his golden head if he dared lay a hand on Jon! 

But no matter how discreetly he checked, he couldn’t find anything. He even treated Jon with care and devotion. Never spoke a word against him, not even when it was obvious that Jon was his beloved child. 

If it had been anyone else, Robert would rejoice. The love of a king would mean Jon would be safe even after Robert died. But it did not give him any comfort to see Joffrey lavish attention on Jon, it made him apprehensive instead. 

The way he looked at him….

The way he would touch him and refuse to part from him….

Robert knew they shared a bed as children and he had quickly ordered the servants to stop them once Jon grew older and his beauty began to bloom.

The thought of him laying his filthy little lion paws on Jon made him hurl. 

The Kingslayer didn’t seem worried though. He did keep a close eye on them and Robert wondered why he couldn’t see that there was something off about his nephew.

Based on the reports he got about the boy, he was aloof and cold, but he didn’t have shit for brains and knew his way around the sword. He was the model Crown Prince. He may never inspired ballads like Rhaegar did, but he wasn’t hated either. That Jon loves him as a brother is the only reason Robert doesn’t send him away.

It is the way he looks at Jon that makes his blood turn cold. Robert can’t get over that look in those green eyes. 

That gaze is the main reason Robert accepts Ned’s proposal to wed his namesake to Jon. It is the reason he doesn’t feel offended that he rejected joining their houses by marrying Joffrey to Sansa without a second thought. Sansa had the markings of a pretty woman and he hoped that by marrying them, Jon would be free from Joffrey’s grip. That with a pretty thing by his side any feelings he had towards Jon would be gone. 

He knows that Ned feels betrayed, but he kept Jon safe for both their sakes. But, his proposal does have merit. Jon as the Lord Consort of the future Warden of the North would be safe. Surrounded by direwolves and in the lands of his mother, Jon would be free and the realm would finally be at peace. 


	12. The city holds my heart with walls of glass and steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia rejoices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New plot bunny from Elia's pov. Pairings: Jon/Oberyn and one-sided ???(I don't want to give it away)/Jon.
> 
> Jon is a Stark. The Stark family is made up 4 boys: Brandon, Ned, Jon and Benjen. 
> 
> Warning: attempted non-con and suicide (Not Elia). Some dialogue taken from a Cersei + Ned scene.

Queen Elia finally has her throne. She holds her dark head up high and the crown she wears a most reassuring weight. It was a sign of her triumph. Her victory.

Childbirth hadn’t claimed her. 

Her fragile body hadn’t failed her.

Even Aerys’ madness hadn’t stripped the joy out of her. 

Not like it had Dowager Queen Rhaella who looked more lost than ever before. She hadn’t left her rooms nor spoken any words since the day they found Rhaegar pulling a sword out of his father’s body.

She remembers Aerys stunned purple eyes as his body stumbled from the Iron Throne to the floor. 

Elia didn’t know who screamed, but it had just been utter chaos. Pycelle, the fool he was, even went as far as to touch the body as to try to stop the blood from seeping out. But anyone with eyes could see it was much too late.

And all she could do was stare at her Silver Prince. His face was immobile, blood splattered across his handsome features. Elia had never seen him so composed, so commanding and she swore that when the light hit him just so, Rhaegar had looked like an avenging angel.

She hadn’t wanted to think about what (_who_) he was avenging. Because otherwise she would have to choke on her own hypocrisy. 

That day Rhaegar became Kingslayer and King both. And all the vultures that had been flying about the half-dying caucus of the Targaryen Dynasty disappeared.

No one knew what to make of King Rhaegar.

As Crown Prince he had been bookish, content to play his harp and sing to the smallfolk. His melancholy already legendary across the Seven Kingdoms. He had been their hope, a balm against Aerys’s increasing madness.

But, now she knew everyone had begun to wonder if maybe the Targaryen madness hadn’t skipped Rhaegar after all. And Elia wanted to believe it and what did that say about her? That she preferred her husband raving mad over the truth?

Rhaegar may have believed her deaf and blind, or maybe he no longer cared (she suspects that he doesn’t give one whit about what she knows), but only she and Arthur (_dutiful and loyal Arthur_) know why he stabbed his father to death. 

Yes, as crown prince, Rhaegar had been predictable, but now, she doubts even Arthur knows what goes through his head.

Elia knew she was lucky in her marriage. She only had to take one look at her goodmother to know that it could have been so much worse. But, even after years of marriage and two children, she knows Rhaegar doesn’t love her. Will probably never love her. He may respect her and be kind, but his heart belonged to another. 

And that thought made her burn with jealousy. Elia was a Princess of Dorne, she never had the expectation of love in her marriage. Doran’s failed marriage was proof enough, but she carried a soft spot for him and loved him for the beautiful children he gave her. 

At the start of their marriage, Elia even believed he had loved her. Fleetingly perhaps, but it had been something. And it had been extinguished so quickly that she made herself believe that maybe Rhaegar loved no one. She even went as far as to use his parent’s marriage as proof that he was damaged somehow. That years of living under Aerys’ thumb emotionally stunned him.

Elia would have continued to believe her own lies if Oberyn hadn’t met Jon Stark. 

Even at the Red Keep, she would hear songs about Jon Stark. About his beauty and how he was considered to be the most beautiful person in Westeros. That anyone that laid eyes on him lost their hearts to his grey eyes. The Winter Rose they called him.

_A rose that wilted far too quickly in the southron heat_, Elia thinks to herself with some satisfaction before feeling ashamed. 

It hadn’t been Jon’s fault that her husband didn’t love her. And no matter how badly she wants to blame him for it, she knows it is unjust of her.

Jon hadn’t asked for Rhaegar’s love. For Robert Baratheon’s obsession with him nor for Aery’s lust. All he ever wanted was Oberyn. 

Oh, how her brother loved him! Was wild about him and wanted to marry him as soon as possible and if he hadn’t insisted in Elia and the children meeting Jon first, he would have. Jon as a Prince of Dorne and as the Winter Rose of the North would have been protected. With two Houses behind him and ready to come to his defense, he and Oberyn would have been happy. Oberyn would have had children with his One True Love and lived happily ever after.

_They both watched as Jon played with Rhaenys and Aegon._

_“With my cleverness and Jon’s wildness, our children will be known as the Sand Snakes of Drone, feared for their battle prowess and beauty.” Oberyn grandly declared. _

_His black eyes shone with so much love it left her breathless. Jon was a natural with children that much was clear when the children’s laughter reached her. But even then her heart hadn’t soften towards him._

_The half-sung songs had been right. Jon Stark was lovely to look at, but it was his heart that shone ever more brightly. _

_“It is too soon for that brother,” she laughed with fake sincerity. Even though Jon had done nothing, but be kind, she felt both envious of him and threatened by him._

_Already she could see Rhaegar’s eyes wonder and the tender look in those purple eyes made her want to scream and throw something. He had never looked at her like that before! _

_She had had to work to get him to open up to her and even now, she wasn’t sure she succeeded. No, she knows she didn’t. Not like Jon who made Rhaegar smile and laugh. Who shared his interests and showed genuine concern for the smallfolk, already talking about the small school he opened for Winterfell’s servants. And the way he spoke about his pupils made it clear his pride in their accomplishments was real. _

_Elia had always considered herself a perfect Princess of Dorne and Crown Princess, but even she never went as far as Jon did and it made her feel inadequate. And the more she thought about it, the more Elia couldn’t bare to look at him. For the first time, she wanted her brother gone. She wanted taken Jon away from her presence and to never look at him again._

Jon left his beloved Winterfell for Oberyn, only to met his demise in the South. 

And although Elia hadn't liked him, she never would have wished what happened next on anyone.

Jon hadn't deserved to almost be raped by Aerys. Both Oberyn and Rhaegar raged when they found out. Already, Rickard Stark was calling for blood, the treasonous whispers of rebellion growing louder and louder. Elia feared that being his sister was no longer enough and Oberyn would end the Targaryen Dynasty himself for the insult laid on his beloved. That it would damn his nephew and niece didn't matter. Oberyn was completely enthralled by Jon. 

She doesn't know if Aerys was the reason Robert Baratheon kidnapped Jon. But, she does know he had been deluded enough to think that with Jon by his side, he would be able to overthrow the Targaryens and declare himself king thanks to the royal blood (Targaryen blood no less) in his veins. He hadn't cared that Jon was disgusted by him, he knew that together they would bring Westeros to a Golden Age.

Instead, Jon threw himself into the sea. He preferred death over being ruined and used as a pawn for the game of thrones. He would not be the reason tens of thousands died. 

His sacrifice made Elia guilty, oh so guilty and she wonders if she would ever have that level of courage. 

(She fears she doesn't)

Tens of thousands hadn't died, but Elia swears she feels the realm mourn all the same. 

She can see the damage of Jon's self-demise all round her:

Oberyn shattered completely, becoming a shadow of a man. Not even Robert's violent death at the hands of his former foster-brother, Eddard Stark, roused him. 

There are times she can't bear to look at him. He was nothing but a corpse, whose heart hadn’t the sense to stop beating, and it made her skin crawl.

Oberyn mourns and mourns as Rhaegar stabbed his own father in the heart for Jon. 

(Jon who respected his position as crown prince and later as a person because oh, the good he could do for the people) 

(Rhaegar knew Jon would never love him. His heart belonged to the Red Viper. Sometimes he couldn’t stand to look at them. They were so bloody in love, it was sickening. Seeing them would wake the dragon and he could feel the jealousy burn hot in his veins)

Rhaegar passed judgment on his father for Jon. Lifted his sword against his own blood even though he kept silent about his mother's rapes.

Rhaegar, who didn't lift a finger even when Aerys would call her a Dornish whore and the children, Dornish bastards. And yet, he killed for Jon.

Even in death, his thrall was ever present and ever potent. His shade still made her feel inadequate and she felt nothing but shame at her behavior.

Jon was dead.

He was a corpse and she was a living woman and yet, why did feel that if she said his name out loud it would breathe life back into him?

Elia is Queen.

She survived, but why does she feel like she lost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not meant to bash Elia, but I think after living in King's Landing with Aerys as King, it changes a person. I may rewrite this at some point. I like it for now, but honestly I was getting tired of looking at it and just tweaking detail after detail that it was draining me. 
> 
> One day I will write a happy ending for Jon, I promise. But for now, it will be a mixed bag.


	13. Here’s to the Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis remembers the moment he fell in love with Jon Targaryen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Ch. 10.

Stannis remembers the moment he fell in love with Jon Targaryen. At first he had been offended by the suggestion to marry such a young man. He had already married at Robert’s command and it had been a disaster. Selye had been cold, distant and it had been a relief when she passed. Stannis hadn’t even bothered to hide it and wondered what in the Sevens Hell Robert was thinking when he made that union possible.

But, now he wondered if his never-ending loyalty to Robert had finally reached its limit. 

The entire affair with the Lannisters had been a harsh blow to the Baratheon name. Cersei had made them a laughingstock. Even in Essos, they mocked their name. And Robert, drunkard that he was hadn’t truly grasped how the realm was slowing slipping from their fingers.

Tywin had retreated to the Rock after all the humiliating details came to light and Stannis knew that he would no longer fund Robert’s whoring. Past harvests had been poor and inadequate planning almost led to a food shortage. Coupled with his brother’s excesses, Stannis felt nothing but pressure to try to restore their treasury. Unfortunately, raising taxes was not in the cards, not if they wanted the smallfolk to riot. He had to get creative and marrying a boy was not what they should be focusing on. Not when King’s Landing was a mess, staffed with imbeciles who catered to Robert’s ego. Stannis felt they were on the edge of a precipice. The southron Houses may appear calm, but Stannis didn’t trust them. It felt too calm, too serene and it made him twitch. 

Not even the North was immune. Rickard Stark was dead, but his schemes to marry his children to prestigious houses had reintroduced the North to the game. For a people that so rarely concerned themselves with the affairs of the realm, whispers of discontent were slowly reaching his ear.

Yes, the throne could no longer afford another scandal. But Stannis knew it was useless as long as his lump of a brother remained on the throne. Maybe Arryn was right and it was time to call a council….

His somber thoughts were interrupted by Robert’s huffing as he made his way to his solar. That he didn’t bother to knock still bothered him. Robert never had respect for anyone else. So much so Cersei decided it was a better bet to fuck her brother instead of dealing with him. 

“Robert,” He responded, not even bothering to hide his disapproval.

“A delight as always Stannis,” Robert responded as he seat down, “Have you given any thought to my proposal?”

“My answer is no. The Iron Throne is close to bankruptcy-” but he stopped when he saw Robert wave his hand. As if the end of their family rule was insignificant. 

“I may not be our father, Stannis, but I am not blind. I am old and fat. My whoring and love for wine has caught up to me and no matter how much the council tries to push me into another marriage, I know it is pointless. The chances of me leaving a mere babe to inherit is too high.” 

Stannis almost gaped at the words coming out of his brother’s mouth. Very rarely did Robert acknowledge his failings and never once has he never done so in his presence. 

Robert continued on. He knew Stannis. Harsh man that he was, but he needed to understand that although he was not the King the realm deserved, he was still the only King they had.

“Don’t act surprised, brother! A babe as King will doom us all. The damn Roses are already sniffing around. They have always wanted to have one of their own as Queen and the Baratheon have always denied them. Their pride and joy is engaged to the Stark Heir, but they will break it immediately if they think the girl can become Queen. The Fat Flower has already made several comments.”

“I thought you liked them,” Stannis responded. He wasn’t use to dealing with an astute Robert.

“I am not Renly, Stannis. Lorcas Tyrell’s cock doesn’t make me forget my loyalty to our family. No, I like their gold and their wine,” Robert smirked, “But, even their wealth has its limit. Their lands are no longer as fertile as they use to be. Renly can’t be my heir, Stannis. You are the Crown Prince and a Crown Prince must marry.”

To hear him say those words….

Their relationship had never been warm. They were too different and only too aware of their different stations in life. Very rarely did Robert ever acknowledge what Stannis did for their family. But even that wasn’t enough to quiet his misgivings.

“The Targaryens-” He began, but was quickly cut off.

“The Targaryens have connections to Essos. Dragonstone is a port for merchants and wealth flows in and out on a daily bases. Lands may lose their fertility but goods always need a way to make their way here. The Targaryens may not have a ready made army and their ships may be merchant vessels, but money can buy them all the protection they need.”

“The Dragons may be a new House, but they have might. Three hundred years ago they came to Westeros fleeing the Doom. The legends say they once had dragons, but when they first came to these lands, they had nothing. The Baratheons raised them to Lord Paramounts and they haven’t forgotten their loyalty.”

“Is this about Lyanna Targaryen, Robert-” But he stopped when he saw Robert roll his eyes. Rude, he thought with a huff.

“Don’t deny she would have been a better Queen than that slut, Stannis. But, no this isn’t about her. The Tyrells are nothing but vultures. The moment that girl births a boy, we will find ourselves at death’s door. Our family didn’t conquer Westeros so that the fucking Roses can seat on the Iron Throne. No one wants the Greyjoys near it and Hoster Tully doesn’t have another daughter’s cunt to bargain. The Starks have a Tully daughter who has more fluff in her head than any sense. She believes in the songs and will probably wilt the moment she steps foot in the Red Keep. I can go on and on, Stannis. You know it is true-”

Stannis cut him off, “And Jon Targaryen doesn’t? A boy of what? Ten and six? You think he wants to be married off to a man old enough to be his father?”

“Just meet the boy!” Robert yelled, having had enough of Stannis’ stubbornness, but did nothing but huff at Stannis’ unimpressed face. Although he would never admit it, he always did like Stannis’ fire and refusal to roll over.

“Jon Targaryen has denied over half the bachelors in Westeros and his parents are worried he won’t choose anyone at all. Plus, I hear he is beautiful-” 

Robert quickly lost his leer at Stannis next comment, “So was Cersei.”

Silence reigned in the room and Stannis watched as Robert’s face turned purple. He was honestly surprised and impressed (as if this fucking conversation wasn’t a surprise in the first place) at how Robert reigned in his temper.

That more than anything made him straighten up. Robert was never shy in his temper. Like everything else, it was one more indulgence. 

“Dragonstone loves him. The smallfolk love him. Already songs are sung about his harp and his voice that captures anyone’s attention. He has heart. Not pride. He loves. Not lusts after the Crown. He is someone that the people will follow and lets be honest Stannis, you have never been accused of being charismatic.”

He ignored his brother’s final jab. It was rare to see Robert so passionate about something not having to do with his whores and wine that it was the only reason he agreed. 

* * *

He felt a little bit of embarrassment since making his way to Dragonstone. At least the salt in the air was similar enough to Storm’s End that he didn’t feel as uncomfortable as he would have otherwise.

_Look at me_, he inwardly thought, _I am a grown man acting like a greenboy going off to court his sweetheart_.

Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen had been nothing but polite. Not overly solicitous like other Lords were and that was a point in their favor. He didn’t know whether to feel glad or disappointed Daenerys wasn’t present. It was not every day you met a woman who married a Dothraki horse lord. That he later died was unfortunate, but still it was impressive. 

Stannis was less certain what to make of Viserys. That he loved his nephew was without a doubt, but it felt like Viserys didn’t think anyone was worthy of Jon. That his love was paternal and not carnal was the only reason he hadn’t left immediately. They did need a repeat of _that_ situation ever again. 

He hadn’t had the chance to meet with Jon since he had been out visiting some bannerman about some business or another, but he had been told he had arrived last night. Today, they would meet and hopefully part ways. 

Or so he thought until he was formally presented to Jon later that day. 

Stannis hadn’t know how his eyes widen when he first laid eyes on him nor did he see Lyanna smirk in triumph, but he did hear his breathe catch.

Jon Targaryen was truly a sight to behold. 

For someone who lived on a island for all his life, his skin was snow white, not a single freckle marred his porcelain face. Wild black curls surrounded his face and drew attention to the greyest eyes Stannis had ever seen.

Jon had Northern coloring, but his beauty was all Targaryen. 

He had to shake himself from that beauty and concentrate. 

Cersei had once been considered the most beautiful woman in Westeros. A boy that looked like Jon Targaryen was destined to be with someone else. No matter what lineage Stannis had or his position as Crown Prince, a beauty like him wouldn’t want to be shackled to an old man. 

If only Jon had been like Cersei, their story would have been different. 

But the little conversation they had during breakfast was enough to dispel those thoughts. 

Cersei had never been kind. Her green eyes always remained cold no matter how pretty her smile.

But Jon…his sincerity shined from those grey eyes. 

Maybe things would have been different if he hadn’t the chance to speak with Jon, Viserys some distance away, as they took a stroll on the beach. 

(It still wouldn’t have mattered. Robb would still kidnap Jon and Jon would still die in Greywater Watch. The Baratheon Dynasty would meet its end)

“I have met many handsome men, Your Grace,” Jon responded when Stannis finally broke down to ask why he would want to marry a man old enough to be his father.

“I was once engaged to a handsome man,” Jon smiled as he took in Stannis’ stunned face. Very few people knew that detail. His mother made sure of it and his Uncle Ned was too ashamed of Robb's behavior to say otherwise. 

“Robb Stark was once my betrothed. Since the moment I was born and my dual nature was confirmed, my mother had dreams of uniting the Targaryens and the Starks. A song of fire and ice, she called it. As soon as I was able to talk and walk, I was sent off to Winterfell to learn how to become the perfect Northern Lord Consort. But, in all her dreams, she never imagined that the Stark Heir, well he must hold some affection for me in order for the marriage to work.”

Jon paused as he looked at the beach. His aunt and uncle may be aware of some of the cruelty he faced at Winterfell, but he hadn’t told them everything. If Robb had ignored him, belittled him than that would have been preferable. But no, Robb had been cruel. 

“Robb was cruel to me and that didn’t really change as we got older. Finally, my parents heard my pleas and ended the betrothal. You see, Your Grace, I was once engaged to a handsome, but cruel boy and I hated it. Through the years as more handsome men appear before me, I have come to realize this: beauty will age. I will age and my beauty with it. And when that time comes I want to be able to look at my husband and still feel proud.”

Yes, that was moment Stannis’ heart began to beat for Jon. For a rare beauty who was both kind and wise.

“I have heard things about you as well, Your Grace,” Jon turned to looked at him seriously. 

“I know what men think when they look at me, but you, Your Grace, you don’t care for beauty. Not really. You would see beyond my face and actually care about me as a person. But more importantly, what you did for your former niece and nephew, is one of the main reasons I didn't say no when my parents spoke about a possible engagement. It would have been so easy to make an example of them, but you convinced His Majesty to show mercy. Children are alive because of you. I don’t need a handsome man, Stannis, I need an honorable one.”

Hearing his name made Stannis jolt. 

“But the main reason? I believe you and I can be happy.” Jon's eyes looked so hopeful that Stannis fell.

He fell and fell and fell.

So utterly and completely that he later broke when he saw the massacre at Dragonstone. His Dragon Prince was gone and he took Stannis' honor with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write Davos for this piece. I was already half-way writing this and didn't really want to start over and rewrite-it, especially since I liked where it was going.


	14. Raise your hopeful voice for you have a choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon left Westeros a bastard and came back a King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another plot bunny. Written in multiple characters pov. Dany and Viserys don't exist in this universe. Mpreg in the end. 
> 
> For GreenPowerBank who asked for a happy Oberyn/Jon or Stannis/Jon ending. Ummm, I really tried to make it work, but the story went in a different direction than I planned, but Jon lives, at least?

Oberyn never meant to step a foot in the North. Although Ned Stark had returned the bodies of his sister and her children, there was a part of him that still viewed him as the Ursupeer’s Dog. 

But no matter the cloak of honor Stark wore, he was still a man. A man with a beautiful bastard child. 

Black eyes watched the bastard practice in the ring with his brother. He could see the talent in the boy and began to believe the rumors. Maybe his mother really was Ashara and his talent with the sword was all Arthur. 

Yes, the boy had talent, but Oberyn could see how he held back. No doubt the Tully trout made sure the bastard didn’t outshine her precious boy. For someone who considered herself to be pious and above reproach, it always amazed him how she could justify her poor treatment of an innocent child. Dorne was liberal in their treatment; hells, he had his own bastards, who he loved dearly, but still. He always wondered why she never stopped to think. Her Seven Gods were no Gods at all of they vilified children. 

Maybe she was still jealous and too petty to admit to herself that she hadn’t been Stark’s first choice?

Everyone knew Stark had married her in order to avenge his father and brother. 

And to save his sister.

Even after all these years, Oberyn could still feel the hatred in his veins when he thought of the wolf bitch who indirectly cause the death of the people Oberyn loved most in the world.

Stark married a trout for the army she brought as part of her dowry and he even seemed to make peace with her if all the children he saw around him were proof. How he could so easily forgive Hoster Tully for twisting his arm to make his daughter Lady of Winterfell after his brother’s demise, Oberyn couldn’t begin to imagine.

Honor like every thing else in this world was easily pushed aside. 

Still he couldn’t drag his gaze away from Jon Snow. He truly was a gorgeous little thing. Dangerous with his sword and a favorite amongst his siblings even if the trout’s mini-look alike dismissed him.

Stark was truly an imbecile not to stop his wife’s influence from creating discord in his household. He had been here for not even half a day and already he heard whispers of the southron ways invading the North.

Oberyn smirked. He may be grateful to Stark, but he was still going to enjoy seeing his family be brought to their knees for forgetting they were wolves first.

He admired the flushed face and wild black curls once more before returning back to his room. His stay at Winterfell was going to be extended a little longer. 

* * *

“You need to be careful Jon,” Robb said as he came in his brother’s room.

Jon jumped, but he finished changing into a nightshift. He hadn’t heard Robb come in. Lately all his thoughts were centered on the Red Viper, but he pretended to not know what Robb was talking about. 

“What do you mean?” Jon played ignorant as he took off his pants. Robb’s eyes followed his movement and his eye lingered on Jon’s pale thighs. His brother was a beauty and he was not going to let a dishonorable man like the Red Viper take advantage of Jon’s kind nature.

“Days ago you would have felt me come in, but lately you have been distracted.” Robb made himself comfortable in the bed. 

His mother may have not wanted Jon in the Family Wing, but he would be damned if his brother did not have the best Winterfell could provide. Supple leathers, soft bedding and furs from animals raised not for slaughter but for their hides. That his father supported him and had no qualms in footing the cost was even better. No one would look at Jon and not know that he was loved by his family.

And now with the Red Viper making no noise to leave, Robb sure as hell was staying with Jon. He didn’t trust the man not to push his welcome and try to slither in into his brother’s room. Prince of Dorne or not, Robb would geld him if he tried. And that reminded him-

“Don’t play stupid, Jon. You are lucky almost no one has paid attention to how casual the Red Viper is being with you. Hanging around you and giving you sparring tips when anyone with eyes can see how he looks at you. Father may try to convince himself it is nothing, but I won’t.” Robb huffed and rolled his eyes at Jon’s reddening face.

“Almost no one?” Jon asked quickly dropping his pretense. 

“Arya has notice and so has Theon,” Robb pointed out, “Father too, but like I said he probably trying to convince himself the attention isn’t…lustful.” He didn’t know what other word to use.

Jon blushed further and plopped himself next to his brother and groaned, “No wonder I keep seeing Arya everywhere. And it is not like that. He hasn’t been disrespectful.”

Robb raised an eyebrow. He had eavesdropped on more than one conversation and the man teased Jon far too much for it to be anything but friendly banter. He didn’t speak to anyone else like that. He would smirk at Father and mock his mother so politely, no one knew how to tell him to knock it off without sounding rude. But the way he spoke to Jon….

“If it is not like that then why are you blushing?” Robb asked and watched as Jon’s gaped at him.

“Jon, you are my brother and I love you, but sometimes you can be so oblivious. It might grate on mother’s nerve and anger Father, but it is you and not Sansa who is considered to be the true Northern beauty in this family.”

Jon rolled his eyes, “I am a bastard boy-”

“A _beautiful_ bastard boy,” Robb corrected, “You are gifted with the sword and your kindness is well-known. Northern men don’t want a southron raised Stark. Mother may be in denial, but raising Sansa like she has and trying to mold Arya into a southron lady hasn’t done her any favors. Father must love her a great deal to have built her a Sept and let her carry on like she has for so long.”

Although he knew Robb shouldn’t talk like that, Jon couldn’t deny the pleasure he got from hearing him criticize his mother. As the years went by, Lady Stark’s eyes grew colder as the whispers of his fairness began to spread. 

He too had heard the same whispers in Winter Town and he knew his Father needed to act soon. The last thing the Starks needed was discontent amongst the bannermen. Robb may have Tully coloring, but his heart and soul was that of a wolf. Jon knew he would do his best to protect the Stark legacy. 

“What does this have to do with Oberyn Martell?” Jon asked as he cuddled his brother and they made themselves comfortable in bed.

“He is a man who still wishes for revenge for what happened to Princess Elia and her children. A man who has had several paramours and bastard children. He is well-traveled and once owned a sellsword company. A man like that, Jon, he knows how to exploit people. He has lived too much of a rich life to not want to amuse himself at someone else’s expense. You are my brother and I won’t let you be swept away by honeyed words and a kind smile.”

A slapped rang in the room and Robb didn’t bother to cradle his cheek, but he did reach out to his brother. 

Jon struggled in his embrace, but gave in,“I am not a fool, Robb. I know what people whisper about me. My mother was either Ashara Dayne or a whore, but I know better than to let a few kind words sway me to a stranger’s bed. If I didn’t, I would have let Theon have his way with me years ago.”

Robb growled, “Theon knows better than to try. A kraken is no match for a wolf.” 

And Robb was telling the truth. He had warned Theon long ago that Jon was to be respected. One foot out of line and the Greyjoys would need a new male heir. Although he would still see Theon admire Jon from time to time, he kept any comments behind his teeth. 

“What happened to the Princess of Dorne and her children…it was murder not war. How Father can still call the King his friend, I do not know, but it is so wrong that Oberyn wants revenge?” Jon asked, his temper cooling. He needed to remember that Robb loved him and would never deliberately hurt him. But his words had stung. 

He wasn’t a whore. He wouldn’t give Lady Stark that satisfaction. He knew she wanted him to join the Watch, but Father had put his foot down. Even Uncle Benjen has been enraged at her presumption. Jon may not have the Stark name, but he was loved all the same. And yet, he still wanted to know what would become of him. Would he be able to stay at Winterfell? Or would Father marry him off to a second or third son? 

“Oberyn?” Robb whispered. He didn’t like the reminder of how close Jon was to the Red Viper.

Jon rolled his eyes, “Yes, Oberyn.”

“Has he mentioned anything to you?” Robb needed to know. His brother wouldn’t lose his life for a man’s revenge. Yes, what had happened to his sister was horrible but too much Stark blood had been spilled for the Iron Throne. Jon wouldn’t be the next wolf to lose his life for it.

Jon adorably wrinkled his nose, “No. He doesn’t really talk about his family much. Whatever you are thinking Robb, it isn’t true. He has been helpful in offering sparring pointers, but nothing more. He is a Prince of Dorne and like you said he is well-traveled. He probably came to the North because he was bored. Soon he will leave and everything will go back to normal.” 

And he was right. The Red Viper did leave soon after, but he left with the promise to write to Jon. 

* * *

Jon quickly made his way to his room. He knew his correspondence with Oberyn was not a secret to either Father or Robb. But no matter how the increasing frequency of the letters made Robb’s lips thin in disapproval, he liked having a friendship with someone outside his family and Theon.

He had felt suffocated in Winterfell lately. That some of the bannermen had made overturns to Father for a possible match hadn’t helped. Lady Stark had been ecstatic at first, no doubt delirious with joy to rid herself of the Bastard of Winterfell, but both Father and Robb were less than pleased.

_“You deserve more than a second or third son Jon,” Robb remarked, “No, you will have a husband worthy of your hand and of the blood in your veins.”_

“But what about a Prince of Dorne, Robb? Is he worthy?” Jon whispered to himself, holding the latest letter to his chest.

Their correspondence had started off friendly, but it quickly became apparent that they were well-matched no matter the age difference between them. 

Oberyn was coming North once more and he promised to ask for his hand. Lady Stark was going to faint. 

Jon smiled. 

* * *

“You know why I am here Lord Stark,” Oberyn stated as he sat down. His journey North had been rougher than last time, but it would be worth it if he could call Jon his husband. 

(Doran had been both pleased and flummoxed by his decision to marry. That Ned Stark’s bastard would be the one to tame the infamous Red Viper was extraordinary. He knew his brother would not be swayed by a pretty face (_“Gorgeous, Doran,” Oberyn had corrected_), but this could be good for him.

He too wanted revenge for Elia, but he also wanted his brother to live. And if he could fall in love with Lyanna Stark’s nephew, well, he couldn’t wait to meet the boy.)

“I can imagine.” Ned responded. He didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t know. He had seen how the Viper looked at Jon. He hadn’t wanted to accept it then but the letters were more than damning. He had even asked Lyanna’s statue for guidance because he didn’t know what to do next.

Cat wanted Jon gone. He knows now that he had given in to too many of her demands before, but not in this. He wasn’t going to send Lyanna’s child away. It took years for him to finally admit to himself that Lyanna ran off with Rhaegar because she hated the thought of being Robert’s wife and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake with Jon. 

Jon too looked weary and sad at the thought of being married off. No, Jon was his pride and joy and he wouldn’t do that to him. Lyanna died so that he could live. And what use was it if he lived a half-life with a man he couldn’t love?

“Why?” Ned asked and looked directly at Oberyn. Jon would not be used for revenge. What happened to Princess Elia was a travesty and the thought of Jon ending up like her children…it was the only reason he continued his lie for so many years. 

“I love him,” Oberyn responded, uncharacteristically serious.

Ned laughed. It was not laughter of surprise or joy. Nor was it mocking. It rang hollow and broken instead. Oberyn just stared unsure of what to make of the somber man before him.

“You don’t even know him,” Ned responded. And it was the truth. No one knew who Jon really was. No one but him and Howland. 

Jon deserved to know the truth and Ned should have told him the moment Oberyn Martell left Winterfell the first time around. Maybe their attachment would have been prevented. Maybe not, but at least Jon would have known the truth before anyone else.

But Ned had no choice. He had to tell. Because what if their child was born silver haired and purple eyed? The lie about Ashara being Jon’s mother would be discovered and if the Martells asked the Daynes directly, they would tell the truth. They had no reason to lie to their Liege Lord for Ned. 

And heavens forbid if their future son looked like Rhaegar! Then what? Jon would be married to a man who still blamed Lyanna for what happened to his sister. No, he couldn’t do that to Jon. It was better that he faced a broken heart rather than being married to a man who would grow to hate him for the sins of his mother. 

He only hoped that telling Oberyn wouldn’t lead to Jon’s death. 

* * *

Oberyn quickly made his way to his room. He could still feel the anger in his veins. Yelling at Stark and destroying his solar had done nothing to silence the hatred burning through his veins.

It was the greatest betrayal of his sister’s memory to love the son of the woman who stole her husband from her. He wouldn’t do that to Elia. 

There must be something in the Stark blood, Oberyn theorized. The wolves may consider themselves honorable, but the blood of whores ran through their veins to make men lose their sanity.

Just like his mother, Jon no doubt pulled the wool over his eyes. Faking his kindness and virtue. 

Oberyn laughed as he put his heard in his hands. How could he be so stupid?! He fell so easily to a boy of ten and six who wore a cloak of modesty. No, he was a whoreson birthed from the Great Whore herself. And he had fallen for the oldest trick in the book. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the shy knock on his door and he didn’t get the chance to respond before the door opened and he saw the face that he had spent so many nights dreaming about.

After all this time, Jon (if that was even his name!) was still as lovely as the first time he laid eyes on him. But now, he couldn’t stand to look at those large hopeful grey eyes.

The Great Whore also had grey eyes.

“Oberyn,” Jon whispered. He had been so happy to hear that he was in Winterfell and he hoped to hear good news after finding out he had met with Father. But, now that he looked at Oberyn, Jon felt uncertain.

Maybe it was the journey? Coming from so far away must be taxing, but Oberyn looked pale and that was no easy feat with his olive skin tone. But it was his eyes that Jon felt scared by. Those black eyes looked crazed and feral.

“You must be so proud of yourself,” Oberyn commented and Jon looked confused. He had no idea what he was talking about.

“You led me on like a fool! Pretending to be something you are not, just like your whoring mother!” Oberyn snarled and Jon stepped back, his face shocked.

His grey eyes watered at the words coming out of his mouth. He had heard such words before, but to hear them from the man he loved hurt Jon more than he thought possible. 

What had happened to Oberyn that it felt it was right to use his unknown mother against him? Had Robb been right all this time? Had he so easily been swayed by honeyed words and a kind smile? 

Those thoughts soon gave to anger. How dare he! How dare he think that Jon would allow his honor to be questioned? No, he had been fooled, but he wasn’t going to play the Viper’s games any longer. 

“I am leaving. I fear if I stay any longer you and I will say things we will both regret,” Jon turned and made his way to the door, but was quickly grabbed from behind.

Jon struggled in the strong hold and made several attempts to dislodge Oberyn’s hold on him. But no matter how gifted he was with a sword, he was no match for man who had once made his living as a sellsword. 

“I dreamt about you for so long! Imagined the day I would make you mine, but always held back because I thought you were more than what you appeared to be,” Oberyn whispered harshly and savagely bit down on the white neck he forced to yield to him. He couldn’t force himself to stop. He laid hard kisses on the throat and hair he had dreamt about. He dreamt for so long only to find out everything was a lie.

Tears fell from his black eyes and Jon used that momentary lapse to quickly slammed his head back and free himself.

Oberyn groaned but regained his footing, “The little wolf has claws, I see. No matter. You will be mine soon enough!”

He grabbed Jon again and this time Jon was prepared to fight back with everything he had. He bit and he clawed. He hadn’t realized he had been screaming until a streak of brown and red pushed into the room.

His last thoughts were seeing Arya stab Oberyn with the dagger he had gifted her while Robb pushed him off of him. 

* * *

Days passed and Jon still refused to leave his room. Robb didn’t like seeing him so quiet, but nothing he or Arya did would make him talk. All he did was lay in his bed. If Jon cried, he didn’t make a sound and his eyes were always empty and dried when Robb would cuddled him to sleep. He didn't know if that was an improvement from the heart wrenching sobs Jon had let out when he woke up in Robb’s bedroom after That Day. 

He hadn’t wanted to speak about what happened in that room and Robb hadn’t wanted to push him. 

Between him and Arya, they had managed to knocked out that monster cold. Robb had never seen such a look on his father’s face when he came into the room after hearing the screams. 

Not even during the executions was Robb scared of him. But the moment he found out about what had almost happened to Jon, Robb finally saw Lord Stark before him. He had ordered Jon to be seen to immediately and closed the door behind him after sending them off to stay with their brother.

Robb hadn’t know what happened in that room, but Oberyn Martell was gone within the hour. 

The only thing that saved the Red Viper from Ice was the probability of war. They may not fight Dorne on the battlefield, but the North remembers. Oh, the North remembers and Robb promised himself and the sobbing figure of his brother that they would pay for breaking his heart.

Dorne would pay for what their Prince tried to do to his brother.

Bastard or not, Jon was his blood and he was not going to allow anyone to make him feel inferior any longer. 

He made that very clear to his mother, who tried to blame Jon for the Viper’s behavior. She hadn’t even finished her thoughts before his father finally lost it. 

Robb hadn’t know his father was capable of that level of anger before, but his mother was confined to her room and the septa had been sent packing that very day. Even Sansa was not immune when she tried to complain about the septa’s departure and she too had been sent to her room. Their father had it very clear that her behavior was unbecoming of a daughter of the North. Her days of pretending to be a southron lady were over. 

Robb could feel the change in Winterfell all around him and even Theon made himself sparse. He only hoped that this new change would be for the better. 

* * *

Theon did not snark at Robb’s fidgeting, but he did roll his eyes at him. He hummed and hawed at all the correct bits after hearing Robb worry about Jon for the hundredth time. 

People made comments that Robb’s behavior was that of a mother-hen, but Theon didn’t think so. He like so many of the red-blooded lads on this godforsaken wasteland had seen Jon blossom from a pretty boy to a Northern beauty. And he like the others knew it was utterly hopeless. Not only was Lord Stark overprotective of his bastard child, but Robb was overly possessive and always kept a close eye on every male in the castle. 

He had warned Theon to keep his cock to himself after seeing him admired his baseborn brother one too many times. And Theon knew he wasn’t joking. When it came to his brother, Robb never joked. He was utterly devoted and he knew only Lady Stark and himself were the only ones who had an inkling why. 

But no one would believe her now. After spending years muttering about the sinful natures of bastard, no one paid any mind to her words, but after what happened with the Prince of Dorne, well, no took her seriously anymore. Her precious Sept had been taken down and no matter how much she wailed, Lord Stark refused to bend. 

Seeing that, Theon knew better than to let the truth slip. 

It was mystery to him how Robb could still be so oblivious to his own romantic interest in Jon. Oh, Robb may avert his gaze from Jon’s slender figure and plump ass, but Theon saw the admiration in those Tully eyes. For fuck sakes, he liked cuddling his brother to sleep!

Robb’s behavior was the main reason he never dared approach the Starks for Jon’s hand. It had been made very clear that Jon was the North’s precious wolf. And who was he, a kraken, to disrupt the status quo? 

He only hoped that by the time Robb realized his feelings he would in Pyke and so very far away from the shitstorm that was brewing.

Oberyn Martell and his attack on Jon had changed something. Theon didn’t know what, but something big was coming and he hoped he would be able to survive it. 

* * *

“I don’t like it,” Robb pouted as Jon rechecked his supplies once again. He hadn’t even bothered to answer him. Even Arya had accepted his decision to go to Castle Black to speak with Maester Aemon Targaryen. 

The days after Oberyn had been difficult. He had felt so many emotions and no matter how much he sobbed and yelled, he couldn’t center himself. 

But most of all, he blamed himself for being so stupid and naive to fall into the Viper’s trap. He was lucky Arya and Robb came to his rescue for he didn’t know what would have become of him.

Those black eyes had been filled with so much hate and pain that Jon hadn’t know what to make of it then. But now that he knows the truth, he knows he needs to go to the Wall. He needed to meet the last remaining family he had on his father’s side. And wasn’t that a weird thought? To know he was never a bastard in the first place? That both his parents loved him and fought for his survival at the expense of their own lives? 

Jon didn’t blame Father. Lord Stark may be his uncle, but he had kept him alive for all these years. He had clothed him, fed him, had given him a home (no matter how much Lady Stark protested) and loved him. No, Jon didn’t blame him. He didn’t even blame him anymore for what happened That Day.

Yes, it would have been better if he had know the truth before his correspondence to the Viper, but Jon has a feeling it wouldn’t have changed anything. He had known that the death of his sister and her children had been a touchy subject, and to be honest, Jon wasn’t surprised he had acted out the way he did.

He even kept the letters between them, but hid them. If Robb knew, he would have burnt them. Even Jon doesn’t understand why he doesn’t burn them himself. He even kept the last note (Oberyn’s apology really) with him:

_For the love I <strike>held</strike> hold for you, I will keep your secret. Dorne will keep your secret._

Jon reads those words obsessively and knows that Oberyn feels ashamed for his behavior. Jon knows that, but he knows it is useless now. Those words cannot changed what he tried to do. No, he doesn't time for regrets or what-ifs. He needs to make his way to Castle Black.

* * *

"A Targaryen all alone in the world is a terrible thing,” His Great Uncle had whispered to him before dying and leaving him with a chest filled with letters, three dragon eggs and the greatest secret of all: Aegon Targaryen’s survival. 

He was not the last Dragon.

Oberyn would be happy to know his nephew still lived.

“Young Griff, huh,” Jon muttered to himself. He had made his way to the Wall to meet his Great Uncle, it was only fitting that he made his way across the Narrow Sea to meet his half-brother.

Father would not be happy and Robb would be furious, but Jon had to go. He had to see and hopefully, his half-brother would not react like Oberyn did.

“I should take Arya with me,” Jon decided, happy with his decision. He doesn’t know what the future will bring, but for the first time in a long time, he feels hopeful. 

* * *

_Epilogue:_

There are moments Jon looks at Oberyn and still wonders.

He still keeps the letters from so many years ago and from time to time thinks wistfully about that summer when he was ten and six and oh so naive and in love. He dreamt once of being a Prince of Dorne and wedded to the infamous Red Viper. Instead, he finds himself King, ruling equally with Aegon, their dragons flying free above them.

Their silvered haired and grey eyed heir had not even begun his sword training when Jon found himself pregnant. And with twins no less!

Jon wonders, but knows that he can't look back if he wants to move forward.

He loves Aegon. 

He doesn't doubt it now, but there were moments in the beginning of their marriage that Jon wondered if his father Rhaegar had once felt what he felt. If he had felt torn between Princess Elia and his mother. He had forgiven him then for all the decisions he made because Jon now understands the price of love and the shackles of duty.

Yes, he may look at Oberyn and wonder, but that happens less frequently as the years go by. 

Oberyn still looks though and Jon politely ignores the lovesick look in his black eyes.

It takes Aegon longer though and their couplings are always intense when Aegon gets that possessive gleam in his purple eyes. 

Jon loves Aegon and Young Griff equally. He loves him for the King is and the man he became. He loves him for the boy he once was. The boy who always made him feel safe and who made him laugh in joy.

They had all made their choices and Jon cannot make himself regret any of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all want to pretend the epilogue didn't happen, I am okay with it. I really really wanted it to be clear-cut Oberyn/Jon, but once I began writing I couldn't stop. 
> 
> As to whether Jon ever finds out about Robb's feelings, probably not. He sees him as his older brother and I imagine Robb didn't realize his love until Jon was thinking of marrying Aegon. Aegon knows though and appreciates how lucky he is.


	15. Survivors' Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany is the sole survivor of the massacre of Dragonstone and all because she was not present when Robb Stark sacked the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of ch.10 and 13 from Dany's pov. 
> 
> For stargazed, who wondered what happened to Dany. Her fate will be told in two different chapters.

_A Targaryen all alone in the world is a terrible thing_, Dany remembers reading those words so long ago and yet, she feels the weight of them on her soul.

When her ancestors fled the Doom, they came to Westeros with barely anything to their name. Oddly, enough they had fled with a few tomes and she had always been fascinated by the tales they told.

Tales of dragons and dragonriders. 

Never before did Dany wish such tales were true. If the Targaryens had dragons no one would have dared to cross them. No one would have dared to take Dragonstone from them.

Her grief is all too crushing and she wonders how she is able to move forward. All she sees when she closes her eyes is fire and the bodies of Targaryen bannermen all round her. She sees the mutilated bodies of her brother and goodsister. Dany sees Viserys dismembered one, his horrified purple eyes looking out. 

Those dead eyes are how she knows Jon had been taken and she can recall that exact moment with perfect clarity. The corpses of her beloved family surround her and yet, she knows that Jon is not among them. 

And she knows immediately who is blame.

* * *

Dany never quite liked Robb Stark. Although she loved her goodsister, she never understood her desire to have her only child marry the Stark Heir. It was not like they needed another blood tie to the North. Not when Lyanna’s marriage was enough. 

Even as a child, Robb had been cold and distant. Well-mannered and polite, but his smile (if one could call the twist on his lips a smile) were always hollow. 

Viserys never liked him either and a primeval part of them recognized him as threat. 

They had so many disagreements with Rhaegar over Robb Stark and now that she has been proven correct in her assertions of his base character, she feels nothing but grief.

Her family was slain and Jon was missing and she has to repeatedly stop herself from imaging what he is going through. 

Dany loved Lyanna, but with no one else to blame around her, that love quickly turns to hate. After all, what harm can hating the dead do?

She never understood Lyanna’s obsession with the Northern alliance and had snapped when her Rhaegar mentioned the prophesy of fire and ice. Her nephew would not suffer for the ravings of a mad woman. Jon was barely out of his toddling years before being shipped off to become the perfect Northern Consort.

It was the first time (but not the last) that they disobeyed their brother when they refused to keep away. They wouldn’t abandon Jon to the North like they did. They would make sure the Starks knew Jon was loved and remembered.

But, it hadn’t been enough. Not when Jon suffered at the hands of his betrothed and he was stuck in a frozen wasteland so far from home without any support.

How she and Viserys had argued with Lyanna! And oh, how she refused to believed her noble, honor-bound brother Ned would allow his own blood to suffer under his keep.

_“They are just boys, Dany! Robb is just pulling Jon’s metaphorical pig-tails and in a few years when puberty hits, they will be a sickeningly sweet couple.” Lyanna argued as each letter from Jon made them frantic with worry._

_For six fucking years, Dany and Viserys had to read about Jon’s abuse and live with the knowledge that his pleas to come home were in vain. _

_And when he did come home after years of cruelty inflicted on him, he had changed. He no longer smiled as easily. Instead, he was somber and melancholy. The North had changed him and they felt so guilty. But slowly, he got back his spark and they breathed a little easier to know that Jon was a survivor._

Those memories make her choke with emotion. Lyanna had been right in the end, but oh so wrong at the same time. Puberty did hit Robb and he slaughtered the Targaryens for it.

They failed Jon, Dany knows as tears run down her cheek. Even after all he had gone through, his heart had remained true and he had pushed her to follow her dreams and travel beyond Essos. She had met Drogo and fallen in love with him. Their time may have been cut short, but she didn’t regret it. 

She had felt love, but now Jon was being raped in the twisted name of love as she sat around reminiscing. Her tears dry up immediately. This was not the time for such weakness. Jon was missing and she swore she would do anything and everything to bring him home.

* * *

At first Dany had been against Jon’s engagement to Stannis Baratheon and viewed it as another ploy by Lyanna to leverage Jon’s beauty. 

The entire Lannister affair had ruined the image of the royal family and it further tarnished King Robert’s awful reputation. The man was widely know for his whoring, but his brother was the exact opposite. Stern and cold. An unforgiving man who rejoiced at the death of his first wife. Jon deserved so much more than being shackled to a man old enough to his father.

But against all reason, they made sense. Dany hadn’t wanted to believe it, not even Viserys letters were reassurance enough. She had to see them with her own eyes and when she did, she felt nothing but relief.

Crown Prince Stannis was cold and stern, but the way he looked at Jon….it made Dany’s breathe catch.

Jon was loved. 

Yes, his betrothed was a hard man, but even Dany couldn’t deny that he was known for his honor. And if Jon loved him then she would support him. Jon deserved every ounce of happiness. 

Of course, Rhaegar and Lyanna had been giddy with joy. King Robert’s whoring and drinking had finally caught up to him and they knew that his brother would be King and Jon would be King Consort soon enough. 

Jon of Houses Targaryen and Baratheon, First of His Name, King Consort of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. 

Even thinking those words made Dany feel lightheaded. For a short time before the Doom the Targaryens had been considered rulers in their own right and they would soon regain their once royal status.

Jon would be a good King, Dany knew. Dragonstone itself glowed with happiness at having their beloved Dragon be raised so high. One of their own would led them to a Golden Age of that there was no doubt. Not with Jon’s kind heart and the Crown Prince’s honor.

Maybe all the cruelty Jon had face would finally have a purpose.

Their happiness short-lived however and all because that fucker had one last chance to lay his cursed Tully eyes on Jon during their betrothal celebrations. 

Dany would have been happy to never lay eyes on Robb Stark ever again, but Lyanna and her brother saw it was a chance for their families to make mend. The Starks themselves footed the bill for the celebrations. Jon was half a Stark and soon to be King Consort. They knew that such a familial connection would serve the North well.

It had been Arya herself who told Dany that she witnessed Robb and Jon have words. And even though Dany knows Arya loves Jon and is horrified by her brother’s actions, it still takes everything Dany has to not kill her every time she sees her.

She looks into those Stark eyes and all she can see is mutilated bodies all around her home.

_Fire and blood surround her and she hears herself scream. Her brothers are dead…..and Jon, oh Jon!_

“Daenerys?” A voice calls out and she takes a deep breathe before turning to face the door.

The Crown Prince walks in, his grim face filled with shadows. Red blood-shot eyes look at her and Dany takes some consolation from that gaze. The most powerful person in the kingdom is also affected by Jon’s absence and she knows the Prince will stop at nothing to get his Dragon back.

“Robert refused to declare on the Starks. Even with all the evidence at Dragonstone, he didn’t think it was enough-”

Dany growled and bared her teeth, “Damn him! That fat fool! My family has been loyal to the Baratheons for hundred of years! My family even went as far as to forgive all of his whoring debts and for what?! He was the one to approach my dead brother for Jon’s hand!”

She lets out a scream and starts throwing anything and everything she can get her hands on until her rage finally ends leaving nothing but soul crushing grief behind. 

What good was loyalty if it led to the death of her entire family?

“Robert is dead.” Stannis’ voice cuts through her grief and purple eyes look at him for the first time.

What Dany sees shocks her. Stannis’ outfit was covered in blood. She can barely get the words out when Stannis confirms her thoughts.

“Robert’s idiocy has led my family to near ruin and his refusal to give aid was a step too far. I have called upon the Council and the ravens have been dispatched. The Iron Throne has declared war against the North and Robb Stark has been charged with kinslaying, murder and for the kidnapping of my betrothed. Tyrion Lannister has taken over the reins from his father and has pledged his men to head towards the Riverlands as soon as possible. Make no mistake, Daenerys, my love for Jon knows no bounds.”

Danys just stares at him before a cruel smirk appears on her face, “And what instructions do you have for me Your Grace?”

Cold blue eyes meet purple ones, “Fire and blood.”

For the first time since that awful day, Dany smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just in case of any confusion, Stannis kills Robert after he refused to avenge what happened at Dragonstone.


	16. A Mother's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany's death will not be in vain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of ch. 10, 13 and 15.

The war was going badly. With each passing day, the Crown lost more ground and more men. With each death, the desperation to find Jon was slowing driving Dany insane.

“As much as it hurts me to admit it, that monster has not made a single mistake so far. The Crown may be winning the battles, but Robb,” Dany spats out the name, “is winning the war. He killed my family because he wanted my nephew and dismembered Viserys’s body because he blamed him for the broken engagement. He wants me dead as well for that reason alone and he won’t stop until he kills me himself.”

Arya sees the faces around the table pale at her words and sees the King look coldly at Daenerys.

“Are you suggesting-” Tyrion barely said the words out loud when he was interrupted. 

“Yes, I am! That monster is willing to take any risks and bet the lives of all his bannermen for the chance to capture me alive. He wants to kill me himself and we should use that in our favor. If he thinks he can so do, he will take the bait no matter how much he is advised against it.”

“My Lady,” Varys started, “are you willing to bet your life for a chance? And what if he doesn’t fall for the ruse?”

“I don’t care! All I want is my nephew to come home alive and if that comes at the expense of my own life than so be it!”

Arya knows there is no use taking her out of her decision and she admires her for her courage. But, they had to be strategic with every step they took. 

She waits until it is only her, Tyrion, the King and Daenerys in the room before making her opinion known, “If you are willing to risk your life than we should wait until we know the exact location of where Robb is keeping Jon hidden. I know my brother and once you are dead, he will loosen the security around whatever godforsaken hole he has Jon in.”

Her words cause the room to still. She seems them all stare at her in shock. Arya knows that only person who trusts her is Tyrion. Stark blood runs through her veins and it is that same Stark blood that has caused so much grief and death. 

“Have you heard any whispers of where Jon may be?” The King asked her and those cold blue eyes make her internally shiver. 

Since the day Jon was taken and King Robert was found stabbed to death, King Stannis had changed. Whatever honor he once possessed had gone by the wayside since the massacre at Dragonstone.

“No, Your Grace, but I am willing to bet Jon is being kept somewhere in the North. Beyond the Twins where Robb can monitor who comes and who goes. After he slaughtered the Freys during the Red Wedding no one dares to oppose him. Especially not with Ramsay Bolton as his enforcer.”

“And how do we know you aren’t lying to us?” Daenerys asked, her purple eyes looking at her with barely concealed hate.

“Because I love Jon. Because he was the only one to accepted me for who I am. Because I hate Robb for what he has done to our family. But mostly, because I am willing to go look for Jon myself. I am a Stark. The bannermen will not question my presence.” 

“I will go with her,” Tyrion added quickly after sensing the raising tension in the room, “A Stark child and an Imp together will not raise any suspicions. Stark will be expecting the royal army to come to Jon’s rescue.”

Daenerys and King Stannis shared a look. It had been made quite clear early on that they only trusted each other. Their love for Jon binding them together in shared grief and agony. 

“I will think on your suggestions,” The King stated and they were quickly dismissed. 

* * *

“I know you are not your brother, but every time I look into your eyes all I can see is what your family has done to mine,” Purple eyes coldly look at her and it takes everything Arya has to not flinch. 

It cuts her deep to know the monster her oldest brother turned out to be. She is the only one out of all her remaining family who knows the extent of his crimes.

Her father dead from an “unexpected” Wilding attack and her mother driven to madness after Bran’s death. 

These so-called accidents played into Robb’s hands perfectly. Accidents that didn’t add up:

Her father was a good swordsman and it had been a stray arrow in the back that killed him.

Bran’s footwork was always excellent and yet, he fell after having claimed up the Broken Tower dozens of times before without incident. Now all Arya can wonder is if what he saw was the reason he was pushed to his death. 

Arya had never truly fit in with the rest of the family. She had been too wild for her southron mother and although her father indulged her, he was much too busy running the largest region of Westeros to pay her much attention. 

The only person to ever see her and accept her was Jon. Jon, who with each passing moon, was slowly drained of life by Robb’s cruelty. She had been too young then to understand that Robb laid his hands on Jon. That he tried to do things to him that no one should do to an unwilling person. 

She wonders how her parents had been blinded to not see the monster underneath their noses. 

“I know,” Arya responds. After all, what else can she say?

Purple eyes continue to look at her appraisingly, “Jon spoke of you often. When he was at Winterfell, you were one of the few things that brought him joy. Jon’s love for you is the only reason I haven’t killed you.”

Dany has to admire how the Stark girl does not flinch at her words. She and Stannis were united by their desire to bring Jon home, but they both knew they could trust Arya Stark and Tyrion Lannister. 

Both of them were outcasts. A she-wolf who wanted to fight and an Imp whose existence was a stain on his family’s name. But their devotion to Jon had always been clear. If anyone could bring Jon home, it would be these two.

Dany knows she will never her nephew again. She knows that she will never see his raven curls and his sweet smile. She will never see him get his happily ever after and finally be with the man he loves, but it will be worth it. 

Dany only hopes that he will be able to forgive her. But she doesn’t regret her choice. If it took her life to ensure Jon’s own, well that was an easy enough decision to make. Lyanna may have given birth to him, but she was the one that loved him as a mother. 

With the monster’s attention focused on her, Stannis will be able to defeat the rebels at the Trident. By the time they had their victory, she only hoped that Arya and Tyrion would be able to get to Jon and bring him home.

“Godspeed Arya Stark,” Dany says as she looks into grey Stark eyes, “Once you find Jon tell him that I love him and I will always be proud of him.”

She doesn’t wait for a response before walking away.

Dany is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. In a few days, she will die at the hands of the man she hates most in the world, but she knows her death will not be in vain. 


	17. A Little on the Old Ultraviolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter what, Robb will get his Dragon at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of ch. 10, 13, 15-16. The title in inspired by a quote from Clockwork Orange. 
> 
> Please be aware that updates may no longer be as frequent. My job will be getting crazy and I have school during the week. However, I will try my best, especially since writing is a stress relief for me.

When Robb heard the news of Jon’s engagement to Stannis fucking Baratheon he killed a few whores in his rage.

How dare the stupid slut defy his Lord in such a manner!

Robb wouldn’t allow him to slip from his fingers. He hadn’t spent years training Jon for it all to go to waste. 

Jon had always been such a pretty little thing. Even as children, he had shone in the desolate North. With his Stark coloring refined by the Targaryen lines, Robb hadn’t been unable to look away.

It had been very unfortunate to learn that his future spouse was a slut in the making. His pouty lips were always smiling and he would flutter his large grey eyes to any male that crossed his path.

It made Robb rage.

The North would have a beautiful Lord Consort, but already Robb could imagine how his bannermen and the other southrons would mock him behind his back for having a loose husband. No man would be safe from Jon’s wiles.

There were times the sheer jealousy consumed Robb completely and he blamed Jon for his loss of control.

He was the perfect Stark Heir. Polite, well-mannered and excellent with his sword. Robb was always in control, a puppeteer playing with the strings of those around him. He may not have his father’s blind honor nor did he have the Stark look, but he was a proud Northerner. Robb was ambitious and slowing bidding his time. For what, he didn’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep his eyes and ears open. 

Robb did so by making sure to distance himself from his mother’s southron leanings. Instead, he subtly encouraged Sansa in the guise of a doting brother. Sansa would be his to trade for an future alliance and her southron ways would ensure she would never became a threat to him. Even if she dredged up an ounce of cunning, her behavior as a child would ensure no proper Northern House would follow her.

Robb had plans for all of his siblings and Jon would be his centerpiece. Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Rhaegar had allowed Jon to run wild and Robb had no other choice but break him and remold him into the proper Northern Consort. If he had to beat the obedience he preferred then he would do so. 

But Jon was more of a whore than he imagined, easily enveloping his Father in his net. He allowed Jon to train the ring with the rest of the boys and Robb had to put up with the humiliation of having his future bannermen leer at his spouse. 

That Jon was also talented with the sword hadn’t helped matters. Although Northern men loved their spouses to be fierce and strong, Robb would have preferred Jon to be in Winterfell, constantly on his back, birthing his children and raising them.

His mother, soft woman that she was, was an excellent example. She knew her place and she knew her purpose was to raise her children. 

Instead of such docile obedience, Robb was stuck with Jon. Pretty little Jon with his wild curls and snow-like complexion. Ever so lovely and fierce with his sword. How the whole of Winterfell commended Robb for his choice in spouse!

_Wild and beautiful_, they would laugh as they slapped on the back.

_A true Northern beauty,_ they would say and congratulate him while whispering how lucky he was.

Winterfell itself was enraptured by Jon and Robb would not stand for it. 

Robb lusted after Jon’s looks, but his personality had to go.

* * *

Robb had been too young and too inexperience to not know that violence had to go hand and hand with kindness. Violence and fear breed obedience but only for a short time. Jon's fair looks blinded him because behind those grey eyes, Jon was quite cunning. Trapping him in a informal engagement with a fucking Rose. As if such a weak creature could survive the winter! All this time, he had been fooled in believing Jon to be defenseless and yet his little summer wolf found his claws in the end. 

He bowed his head at him in acknowledgement and inwardly snarled at the triumph in those grey eyes. Jon was finally getting his wish and leaving Winterfell. 

Jon may have won this round, but Robb had learned a valuable lesson. He had been too compliant in his manipulations and had allowed his arrogance to cost him his father’s regard. 

But no more! Robb will learn and adapt.

Yes, he will leave Jon to believe he had escaped him. He may be his summer wolf, but Robb was truly of the North. He would get his Dragon husband at the end. With time, Jon will lower his guard and when he did, his aunt and uncle would pay dearly for this farce. With fire and blood if need be. 

* * *

His parents happily paid for the fucking farce of celebrations. Those celebrations should have been his! Instead, he had to play a mummer’s show in accepting Jon’s betrothal.

Years of patience and restraint were the only thing that kept him in check. Otherwise, he would have taken off with his summer wolf, damning them to the mercy of the Iron Throne. 

But, Robb was no longer that inexperience greenboy. He had learned, he had adapted and he was well aware of the eyes that followed him. Jon was deliberately being kept away from him. It wasn’t obvious, no doubt, no one wanted to draw attention to it, but Robb knew.

Such fools! Let them think they had succeeded! Jon was his and soon enough he would find him and get a little taste. 

Robb used Arya to get Jon alone. His sister was willful, but she was still a little girl playing at games she didn’t understand. She was stupid enough to take advantage of and she would unknowingly play her part in bringing Jon to him.

“Did his crown seduce you? Did you want so badly to be King that you sucked his cock for it?” Robb crudely asked and was delighted to see the fire in those grey eyes. He also sensed his fear. Jon wasn’t expecting him to appear from the shadows behind him and that would be his downfall. 

His summer wolf was still too trusting and Robb almost found it endearing. Jon may not want to admit it, but Robb's training had done him wonders. No matter how badly he wanted to lash out and Robb could see the violence in those large eyes, he held back stoically.

“No, you didn’t. I may have teased you as a children, but you did always prize your virtue above anything else,” Robb whispered as he backed Jon to the wall and lazily ran his fingers across his soft face.

His Tully eyes obsessively committed to memory Jon’s lovely features. His memories had not done him justice; instead, during their separation, Jon had grown more beautiful. No marks marred his snow-like complexion and thick black eyelashes drew attention to those grey eyes. But, it was the full mouth that made Robb stir. He wanted that pink mouth chocking on his cock. 

“A man old enough to be your father! A man who rejoiced at the death of his first wife! And yet, here you are, the future King of Westeros,” Robb added as he gripped Jon’s hips. Hips that were perfect for the birthing of Stark children. 

“How quickly you forgotten me,” and Robb wasted no time in ravaging those pouty lips that haunted him for years.

Jon fought him back, trying to escape his grip and almost kneed him the balls, but Robb subdued him. 

The years had been kind to Robb. Jon no doubt continued to played around with his sword like a boy, but Robb had continued to train in the brutal winters. Jon’s soft body was no match his toned physique.

“Do you think he can fuck you and breed you like you deserve?” Robb demanded as he gripped Jon’s wild curls and forced him to look at him.

“Fuck you,” Jon whispered, his eyes bright with suppressed anger.

Robb threw back his head and laughed, “Oh my lovely summer wolf, how I have missed your fire!”

He stepped back from Jon, knowing he had made his point. He turned and walked away, a plan already forming in his head. Westeros was on the edge of self-destruction, but if Jon wanted a crown on his head so damn much then Robb would happily get him one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not revisit this plot line from Robb's pov, but that all depends on when my muse decides to cooperate.


	18. Broken Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally realizes what Robb had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of ch. 10, 13, 15-17.

The slap resonated throughout the room and Robb didn’t respond. He touched his cheek and stared at the blood on his fingers.

Jon briefly cursed himself for his impulsiveness. He knew exactly what the man, no the **monster **in front of him was capable of. He had seen his parents be stabbed to death and his uncle dismembered before his eyes. He had seen Dragonstone burn. 

He had both seen and heard his bannermen be burn to death in his name and the despair had been so crushing, he had barely reacted when he has been taken away from the South and brought deeper into the North.

His family’s death stilled him, leaving a grief so potent, he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even cry and all he could see when he closed his eyes was fire and blood all around him.

Fire and Blood. 

Why did Robb corrupt his family’s words?

Jon didn’t want to die. 

He wanted to live and he knew that he should play Robb’s games for his best chance of survival. He had outwitted him before and yet, the moment he saw him he couldn’t help it. He felt an anger so deep it woke the dragon inside him and he needed to lash out. Jon needed to remind Robb that while he was a Stark wolf, he was still the son of a trout, while he was a dragon. 

And yet, the grief overcame him once more and he couldn’t help the tears from falling. Jon shouldn’t show such weakness, but his father, his mother and his uncle were all dead. They hadn’t deserve to die, not in the violent way they did.

_Please not Aunt Dany, please not her!_ Jon inwardly screamed.

Robb couldn’t kill her and leave Jon all alone! Jon didn’t want to be the last Targaryen! 

_A Targaryen all alone in the world is a terrible thing, his aunt whispered to him. They had both been enchanted by stories of Old Valyria. A time when the Targaryens had once been Kings and Queens in their own right. _

_Dragons, the Targaryens of old once had dragons!_

_What would life have been like if Jon was a dragonrider? Would the Targaryens still bend the knee to the Stags? Or would it have been to other way around?_

Jon needed all his strength and wits to survive. He had to believe that his aunt survived. Jon had to have faith in Stannis too. He beloved wouldn’t let Jon suffer. Not after what happened in Dragonstone.

“My summer wolf,” Robb softly whispered and Jon inwardly snarled at that nickname, “your fire is present as always. I wondered what happened to it. You didn’t say a word as we returned home to Winterfell.”

Jon didn’t even respond. He was too stunned at the delusional words coming out of his mouth.

Home?

His home was burnt and his family slaughtered all around him. Jon was so very far away from home that he feared if he ever returned he would not be able to bear living in Dragonstone without the memories of that day drowning him in grief.

“What have you done?” Jon answered, his eyes tearing. 

He had forgotten that Robb was at his most lethal when he was pretending to be otherwise. Meekness didn’t become him. Instead, it was a skin Robb wore to lower the guard of his opponents. The faux modesty a smokescreen before his enemies found themselves with the wolf’s teeth on their throats.

“Me?” Robb began with a smirk, “Nothing but take back my beloved from the false engagement brought about by his ambitious parents.”

“What have you done?” Jon asked again, his voice becoming a tad hysterical. He shook his head, the tears falling from his eyes as the words continued to leave Robb’s mouth.

“Your parents were so ambitious they sold you to the Crown Prince to recoup the realm’s treasury. They planned to marry you off to an old man all while knowing you loved another.” Robb took great amusement in seeing those large grey eyes fill with tears. Even in his grief, how was Jon still so lovely?

“No,” Jon whispered horrified and launched himself at Robb, gripping his furs, “What have you done Robb, what have you done?!” 

He screamed and pounded his fists against his chest. Jon didn’t care that he sounded hysterical. Robb had damned them all.

“I have done what you wanted! You wanted a fucking crown on your head, so I am giving it to you! Don’t act so stupid, Jon! The Baratheons lost their grip on the Iron Throne long ago. Robert’s fucking and drinking has bankrupted the treasury and all the Great Houses were waiting for a sign to rebel! So don’t act like I personally did anything!” Robb yelled back and gripped Jon’s hair and forced those grey eyes to look him.

“You have always been my cunning little summer wolf. My Targaryen wolf. You may say otherwise, but the dragon blood in your veins always desired a crown. The Starks were once Kings of Winter and it is only fitting that my Dragon Prince gets his wish.”

He bent his head and kissed him. Jon didn’t even respond. All the fight had left him. 

Dragonstone burning. 

His family’s bodies littered across the floor.

Aunt Dany missing.

And Stannis….his honorable Stannis watching the Great Houses rebel against the Stag banner. 

Jon can see their tragedy play out in front of him. Robb started a war in his name and Stannis will call on the Stag banners to get him back. Tens of thousands will die for a rebellion built on a lie and Jon can do nothing but grieve for them all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out more Robb/Jon and ambiguous Stannis/Jon than I expected, but I like it. I hope you guys do too!


	19. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only Robb and Jon know what happened during the Rebellion and how their child came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of ch. 10, 13, 15-18.

In life, Jon Targaryen had been admired for his beauty and his kindness. But, in death he was revered. Songs were sung about him and he became an almost mythical figure. The tragic prince who should have been king and his forbidden love.

So many songs, so many tales behind Jon Targaryen’s final days and yet, no one but Robb Stark knows the truth. 

Years laters and Dragonstone whispers of how their Dragon Prince had been kidnapped from his home. His parents slaughtered as the castle was sacked and his uncle cut into pieces after failing to protect his beloved nephew. 

They whisper the name Daenerys Stormborn, who gave up her life for the chance to bring their Prince home. Her bravery well-known throughout the realm and across the seas. She died taking one quarter of the Northern army down with her before being killed by Ramsay Bolton. 

_(The moment the former bastard appeared, Dany knew it had been a trap. Robb Stark never planned to be present; instead, he had sacrificed a quarter of his men to separate the Targaryen army from the Stag loyalists. Dany couldn’t find it in herself to care. All that mattered was that Arya and Tyrion succeeded in bringing Jon home)._

Her death was legendary. Songs were sung about how red rubies flew from her breastplate like drops of blood, of how she sank to her knees in the water and with her last breath murmured the name of her nephew.

_(The few loyalists that remain tell almost the exact same story except King Stannis was the one that died whispering Jon’s name as his chest was caved in by the Ursupeer’s sword, Ice. _

_What isn’t known was how he died hearing about his Dragon Prince’s wedding to his enemy and his growing belly. His final sight was the gloating face of Robb Stark. As much as he wanted Daenerys dead, he wanted to kill the man who believed himself worthy of his Targaryen wolf himself. He wanted to see those Baratheon blue eyes fill with despair. _

_And he did, Stannis died wondering if he ruined his realm over a lie. But most of all, he wondered why he wasn’t worthy of love.)_

But, their Dragon Prince never did come back. He died far from home, raped to death by the Ursupeer and was later buried in the Stark crypts as Jon of Houses Targaryen and Stark, First of His Name, King Consort of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.

The North tells a different story.

They whisper the tale of the Summer Wolf who enchanted their King as children. They had been promised to one another once, but had been cruelly separated by a she-wolf who later sold her own son to the Stags for a crown. 

The Summer Wolf had been the Prince of Winter in life and was said to have worn the bronze crown of old. He had been anointed by their King himself in the Godswood only to die bringing the child of fire and ice into the world. 

His death changed their King. He began a rebellion to get his beloved back and yet, lost him when he won the war. They still remember the howl of pain when Robb Stark learned about his beloved’s death. They all saw his heart die.

So many different whispers and yet, all of them are some version of the truth. So many believe they knew Jon Targaryen and all believe they understand what motives King Robb:

Tyrion protects Jon’s child because of a promise. He lies to that child and lies to the world about Jon’s love towards Robb. After all, what child wants to know the terrible truth of their forced conception? And what kingdom would follow a prince born of rape?

Arya does the same, even though there are moments she could barely stand to look at that boy. She is however very grateful that he is more Jon’s son than Robb’s. As the years go by her hatred towards her brother grows and grows, so much so that she feels it choke the life out of her. 

The Seven Kingdoms somewhat recovers from the disastrous reign of Robert Baratheon and from the Great War.

Years go by and Robb slowly stops caring. His cruelty was slowly spiraling about of control and Tyrion knows he must be stopped. He had committed great crimes to ensure the life of Jon’s beloved son and he won’t his father throw that future in jeopardy.

Even the child of fire and ice grows up hearing about his beloved bearer. About his beauty and grace. About how in life his Father glowed with happiness and that after his bearer died, a part of him died with him. 

Sometimes when he feels very lonely he goes into the crypts and stares at his bearer’s statue and asks for strength and swears he feels a light breeze when he does. 

Yes, so many whispers of the truth that only Jon and Robb know.

In death Jon is revered. All of his virtues magnified and his flaws forgotten. He becomes an almost saint-like creature. No one remembers how petty he could be and his impulsive temper. Not even the whispers of whore and slut from the Reach dim Jon’s dead star brilliance. 

So many people believe they knew who Jon was in life and they are all wrong. For all of the sins Robb committed, he never denied how cruelly clever Jon could be. There are days when he sits on the throne with the bronze crown on his head that he wonders if Jon deliberately died just to spite him. He didn’t want to believe his Summer Wolf could so easily be defeated on the birthing bed. 

Robb wonders and he knows what the people around him think. He knows his apathy and his coldness was sparking whispers of rebellion. He knows how Tyrion plots to protect Jon’s son and it is the only reason he hadn’t killed the Imp. 

Jon’s son lives and Robb can barely stand look at him. A boy who was all Targaryen from his silver hair to his purple eyes. Those damn purple eyes that he swears are so similar to Daenerys and Viserys. Robb knows that those Targaryen looks are the only reason Dragonstone and the Crownlands still follow him. 

A Targaryen Prince whose voice and skills at the harp remind him of his lost love. Robb promised Jon a Targaryen would be King and he was right. Their son will be King. And it was all at the expense of Jon’s life. 

Robb sometimes hears the songs and he laughs at the tales they weave. Jon was so many things and yet, he has been reduced to nothing but his beauty. They all forgot his flaws, everyone but Robb. And it is only Robb who ever saw beyond Jon’s beauty to see the iron underneath. 

Jon was his Summer Wolf. He had been brave and cruel and clever. He had defied him and even when he had been at his mercy, bargain with him to spare his aunt’s life. Daenerys hadn’t lived as long as she did because of her skills, she lived because Robb spared her until he couldn’t any longer. 

Dragonstone, Arya and Tyrion may believe it was rape and they may continue to make a martyr out of Jon, but only Robb knows that it wasn’t. Only he knows how Jon surrendered to him and willingly laid with him. He may had done it at first to spare his aunt’s life, but afterwards? Jon had been willing. And he had willingly stood besides him in front of the Heart Tree and married him.

The truth wasn’t ever so simple and it makes Robb smile to know how it must torture Tyrion to spread what he believes is a lie. But if Westeros wants to make a song out of Jon then who is Robb to stop them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So was Jon willing at the end and did he ever love Stannis? Well I leave that very open-ended. But Robb did blackmail Jon at first to have sex with him to spare Dany's life. I was actually going to write that scene and that was what actually inspired this chapter, but once again, it took a life of its own once I started typing.


	20. The Devil in Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Joffrey wanted was Jon's love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reader who wondered about Joffrey's "love" towards Jon. 
> 
> Continuation of ch. 5-9 and 11.

Jon was all Joffrey had ever known. Since the moment he could formulate any thoughts all he remembers is Jon.

Everyone around him called Jon his brother and though with time, Joffrey would learn the meaning of the word bastard, Jon was never truly his brother.

Jon was his future.

He wasn’t stupid. He felt and later knew with certainty that his father did not care for him.

Robert Baratheon’s only loves in life were whores, wine, Lyanna Stark’s ghost and his bastard, Jon Sand.

Joffrey did not even feel jealous that his father detested the sight of him. 

Once, his father had been a renowned warrior who had ended the Targaryen dynasty, but now he was nothing but a fat drunkard. Joffrey did not need his love. 

He only cared about Jon.

Yes, his father’s whoring was cutting his life short, but the instincts of the once Warrior King have yet to dull. Out of everyone in the world, only his father knew the monster Joffrey could be. Only he guessed at his nasty temper. He was the only one who could separate him from Jon. And he often did. 

But sweet, innocent Jon never guessed why and it was so easy to circumvent his father’s orders. His father may be king, but everyone in the Red Keep knew it only a matter of time until he died and Joffrey would be crowned. As such, no one really wanted to pissed him off, especially after seeing what he did to those that dared to disrespect Jon.

It made Joffrey smile to know that his Uncle Jaime never seemed to guess his true intentions towards Jon. His earliest memories were of wide grey eyes and his Uncle’s white cloak shadowing Jon’s every step.

His Uncle was one of the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms and he often heard his Grandfather grumble how wasted his talents were in guarding a mere bastard over the Crown Prince. But Joffrey did not mind. At least he didn’t until he finally realized that his Uncle’s devotion towards Jon wasn’t carnal. 

Jaime’s Lannister’s life revolved around keeping Jon safe and secure. And Joffrey would leverage that devotion to ensure Jon was kept innocent and virginal until the moment his father finally died and Joffrey could claim him for his own.

No matter the many power hungry sluts that tried to entice him and seduce for him for a crown, Joffrey knew no one could really take Jon’s place.

Even with the Tyrells manipulating his Uncle Renly to secure the crown for their whore of a daughter, Joffrey knew no one but Jon could rule beside him as his equal. As his King Consort.

His first act as king would be to secure Jon’s hand and maybe legitimize him as a Baratheon. His Targaryen ancestors married sister to brother, brother to brother and sister to sister, so it wouldn’t be strange at all for him to revive that particular custom.

The remaining Targaryen loyalists so badly wanted a king born of incest, so Joffrey would be more than happy to provide them with a dozen princes and princesses. All of them would be born from Jon’s womb. 

No one could match Jon’s beauty. Uncle Renly often looked at him with envy while Uncle Stannis looked at him with a spark of interest. It was only his honor, martial vows and more importantly, his shame that held him back.

Yes, Jon was truly a pale, androgynous beauty.

Years later and no one really knew the identity of Jon’s mother, but her beauty must have surpassed that of Lyanna Stark because all of Westeros knew of his father’s love for his Dornish bastard. It rivaled his love for the lost she-wolf. 

The Red Keep whispers how only Jon’s smile kept his father sane after Eddard Stark left the capital with his sister’s body. His father may be a whoring drunkard, but everyone knew it could have been much worse. Instead, he tried to rule to the best of his ability and it was thanks to Jon that he didn’t lose himself completely in his whores. 

Joffrey wasn’t sure he had that level of restraint. Without Jon by his side, he would burn King’s Landing to the ground and lay ruin to the entire realm.

Everything he did was to keep Jon by side. Jon had always enchanted him with wild raven curls and full red mouth. That pout made Joffrey’s cock ache and as puberty hit, all he wanted was to trace Jon’s wide hips, slender waist and grasp his fat ass. For a boy, Jon’s body was better than any female's. 

He could imagine how tight Jon would be when he finally laid claim to him. How his big grey eyes would tear up in pain as a his white skin flushed from arousal. Joffrey could almost taste Jon’s sweet lips against his own. 

He would try to be gentle with Jon, but he knew it was useless. Joffrey would grip those precious curls and fuck into that slender body with all his strength. A King needed heirs after all and Jon had the most perfect birthing hips he had ever seen. 

There was nothing Joffrey wanted more than to keep waking up with Jon in his arms. But instead of brotherly affection, he wanted Jon to welcome him with open legs and spread white thighs. He wanted Jon to call him husband. 

With time, Joffrey knew he would have worn Jon down and finally make him his.

And like always his father had to interfere by suggesting they go North to pay tribute to his One True Love and his former foster-brother.

Why he couldn’t go by himself and instead felt the need to drag both him and Jon with him, Joffrey didn’t know. And he wouldn’t know until they finally landed in the desolate North with Winterfell itself falling to its knees in welcoming Jon to their keep.

Since the moment Jon had don his furs, Joffrey had been struck by how right Jon looked. He looked like a Northern Beauty straight out of a song. The cold didn’t even seem to affect him as much and Joffrey wondered it was his fiery Dornish blood that kept him warm.

Joffrey had always been sure to keep a very close eye on Jon and he easily disposed of the boys and men that leered on his precious beauty. It had made his heart sing to know that Jon never paid anyone any special attention and even seemed oblivious to his own charms. Which suited Joffrey just fine as only he was allowed to bask in Jon’s presence.

But the moment they greeted the Stark family, Joffrey had to hold back from gelding Robb fucking Stark where he stood.

Tully eyes looked gobsmacked as he was introduced to Jon. It seemed he couldn’t look away and Joffrey was sure that his savage hands held onto Jon’s slender fingers for a few seconds too long during their introduction. 

No one had a right to touch Jon! No one but Joffrey and he had to keep himself check from lashing out.

It was like one of his worst nightmares came to life when he noticed Jon return Robb Stark’s gaze. 

Joffrey could easily recognize the shyness in those grey orbs and the flush on those white cheeks. Jon had been flattered by the Stark Heir’s attentions.

He could feel his heart beat slow down as his ears rang with the aftermath of his silent rage. Joffrey breathed in and out slowly and knew it was critical that he keep himself in control. 

How he was able to, Joffrey didn’t know. But, he held himself back. Not even when Jon laughed prettily at Stark’s jokes or bit down on his plump red lips did he react.

Instead, it felt like he was having an out of body experience.

Joffrey had waited years for Jon. He had plotted and played his part. He pretended to give a fuck about the smallfolk and he only did so because Jon cared. He had done everything in his power to be the type of man Jon admired and respected and it had all been for nothing. All it took was one savage Northern greenboy for Jon to swoon like an insipid female.

Joffrey had tried to be the model Crown Prince and for his efforts he had to watch as his stupid fat lump of a father announced Jon’s engagement to the Stark Heir.

The cheers from all the Northern servants and bannermen easily drowned out Lady Tully’s disgust and her oldest daughter’s disappointment.

It seemed his father would finally get his wish in forever uniting the Baratheon line with the Stark one.

Joffrey watched as Jon smiled happily at Robb Stark, who looked back at him utterly lovestruck. 

His green cat-like eyes took in Lord Stark’s utter joy and parental affection as he looked at the couple. His own uncle looked pleased at the announcement and Joffrey felt utterly betrayed.

All these years he had done his part and now his reward, the only thing he ever wanted, was being ripped away from him.

And he knew who was to blame.

His father’s satisfied gaze met his own and Joffrey could see the triumph in those blue eyes.

He had foolishly waited for the throne and it had cost him everything. And yet, Robert was an utter fool to not realize the magnitude of what he had done. He had failed to recognize and truly appreciate the cruelty Joffrey was capable of.

He breathed in and out and knew this farce was far from over. Joffrey would continue to play as part as doting brother until his other plans came to fruition. Joffrey would be patient. He had played a long game after all. Especially now that a hunting accident was in order. 

Because no matter how much blood had to be spilt or the number of lives lost, Jon will be his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two different endings for this plotline. I may or may not write both, but I will try my best. TBH, I did have writer's block and had to focus on other stories to be able to get some words written down, but I hope to continue to publish more chapters.


	21. The Ghosts That We Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is his mother's child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is its own independent storyline. This is the longest chapter I have ever written and hopefully, it makes up for my absence. 
> 
> For Ayoh, who has followed this story since the beginning and always leaves reviews that make my day a little brighter.

Jon was too much of Lyanna’s child for Ned’s heart to not soften towards him. Lyanna had been more Stark in looks than any of her brothers and her child had inherited her coloring. Jon was fair like Lyanna and just like his mother he had her raven curls. But his Targaryen blood transformed his mother’s prettiness to a jaw-dropping beauty.

He was sometimes quiet and brooding, no doubt his father’s personality shining through. That was enough for Ned to forbid the harp in Winterfell. Ned knew he would lose his mind if Jon had inherited that particular talent. His sweet singing voice was already enough of a torment.

And yet, he had Lyanna’s wildness. Not like Arya did, whose looks were so similar to his sister and whose wolf’s blood ran hot like Brandon’s did, so much so that it made Ned’s heart ache with fear.

No, Jon was like Lyanna in other ways, more subtle that only the people who truly knew his sister could recognize. It was why Jon was Benjen’s favorite and Ned had long ago brushed off Cateyln when Benjen’s apparent love for Jon become so very obvious. Benjen didn’t even care what Catelyn thought and for years Ned had been stuck in the middle between the ridiculous cold war between his brother and his wife.

But with time, it too became obvious that Ned treated Jon differently. He was more indulgent andever so patient. He had already damned his honor with his lie and he made sure that everyone in Winterfell understood that although Jon didn’t have his name, he was a Stark. Not that the older Northern servants needed that warning. They too saw Lyanna in Jon.

And just like his mother, he didn’t want anyone to decide his fate and he was so very headstrong. Every time Ned saw Jon ride his horse, wildly galloping around his siblings, laughing at Robb’s reprimands, it brought back so many memories. Jon was Lyanna’s ghost, a living shade of Winterfell’s lost she-wolf.

And Ned would do everything in his power to ensure he didn’t meet the same fate as his mother. Because no matter how much it aggravated Catelyn, Jon was considered the true Northern Beauty in the family.

Already whispers of his beauty spread and Ned had turned away several interested parties. He knew Jon was wary of the future. Just like Lyanna, he too didn’t want to leave Winterfell and become a broodmare. But unlike his mother, Ned would not turn his back on him.

Lyanna had deserved so much more than being married off against her will. She had detested Robert with all her being and Ned, the fool he had been ignored her wishes. Everyone but Benjenhad ignored Lyanna’s true desires and the Starks were slaughtered for it.

Ned had spent his entire life protecting Jon and the raven he had received earlier in that day, threatened that peace.

Robert and the entire royal family were coming North. With one look at Jon, Robert would be unable to look away. He would see Lyanna in Jon and Ned only hoped Robert wouldn’t be able to see a Dragon as well.

For fourteen years, he had kept Jon safe. Ned would continue to do so even if he had to turn his sword against his greatest friend.

* * *

Jon laughed and rolled his eyes at Robb. How Robb wasn’t already tired of repeating the same reprimand over and over again, Jon didn’t know, but it wasn’t like he was going to listen to him now.

“You don’t even care, do you?” Robb asked tiredly as he watched his brother jump down from his horse.

Large impish grey eyes looked at him as Jon laughed again.

“Nope!” Jon cheerfully responded as he brushed down his horse and Robb just sighed. Between him and Arya, Robb felt he would go grey before his time. Already Rickard was showing signs of being just as wild and it made Robb shiver to imagine all the mischief his three wild siblings would get up together.

“One day you are going to break your neck riding like you do,” Robb grumbled, knowing it was all rather pointless, but still he was the future Lord Stark. He had to set an example.

“But you will catch me, won’t you big brother?” Jon responded with the sweetest smile and a flutter of his large grey eyes. Although Robb knew he was more than likely being manipulated, he felt himself soften.

“You know I would,” Robb responded and held out his arm to Jon so they could make their way back.

Jon was his sweet brother. He wasn’t like Brandon who believed all the songs of knights and heroes. Jon knew he was a bastard and yet, he was rather innocent and yet fearless at the same time. Wild with his horse riding and rather adamant in learning how to use the sword. Jon was rather good too.

Robb had to train harder to be able to keep up with him. It hadn’t helped that once Jon’s beauty began to blossom, he had declared in a moment of pure insanity that he wouldn’t even _consider _marriage to a man who couldn’t beat him in the ring. Robb had to field those challenges to ensure no one dared to try to take advantage.

The look on their father’s face when he realized what had been going on had been quite comical. Although his mother had shrieked and Sansa had tutted in disapproval, their Uncle Benjen had laughed until his eyes teared up with unrepressed mirth. He had been more than willing to offer the both of them pointers. As a brother of the Nights Watch, he had experience fighting wildings and wasn’t afraid to use dirty, unhanded maneuvers.

Robb had feared being punished for basically taking his future bannermen to task for daring to even think of asking for Jon’s hand and yet, his father had approved. Honestly, Robb wasn’t even surprised anymore. His father may be proud of his accomplishments, but he doted on Jon.

Unlike Sansa, he and the rest of his siblings accepted long ago that while his father loved them all equally, he adored Jon. They were his children born of duty and honor and as much as it hurt his mother, Jon was a child born of love.

Whoever Jon’s mother was, his father was still beholden to her. He kept Jon safe and over the objections of his mother, made sure he was treated like a Stark. He even had a room in the Family Wing. His Aunt Lyanna’s old rooms had been cleared out for him and he even sat with them in the High Table. The one time Sansa had dared invoke the word “bastard”, she had been sent off to her room and the septa had been sent packing the very next morning.

With those actions alone, his father demonstrated to the North that Jon was his beloved child. He would reprimand and punish his own legitimate children for his bastard and didn’t care that his very actions angered the Tullys.

_“What is a trout in the face of a wolf?” Uncle Benjen reminded him as he mockingly looked at his mother from across the room._

_“You are a Stark, Robb. With your Tully looks, you have to show time and time again that you are a _ ** _true_ ** _ Stark of Winterfull. I won’t lie and say that I respect your mother. I don’t. I quite detest her and her father actually. They used the deaths of my brother and father to net themselves a Lord Paramount. Ned may not throw that particular truth in their faces, but I won’t let them dictate how the Starks should be a family. Jon was born of love and if the war had been different, he wouldn’t be a bastard.”_

_It was the closest Uncle Benjen ever came to a confession. Although curious, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer._

_“Why tell me this?” He had asked. For as long as he could remember, his mother and uncle had waged insults against one another. Fourteen years and still they couldn’t make peace with one another._

_“Because you are the future Lord Stark, Warden of the North and Lord Paramount. Because Jon needs you. With his looks, who knows what lesser men would do? He has the blood of fire and ice. He is wild and beautiful. Even at the Wall, I have heard whispers of a Stark Northern Beauty with the sweetest voice and the kindest heart. Ned won’t live forever and neither will I. Jon can’t be left defenseless and alone.”_

_Dark eyes looked straight at him and Robb felt a sense of foreboding sweep through him. The war against the Targaryens almost destroyed the Starks. It had broken his uncle so completely that he ran off to the Wall. Only Jon’s smile could soften him. His father too looked weary and Robb wonders how he is able to lead when he had lost both his brother and father in the most horrific of ways._

_And his Aunt Lyanna…._

_Just imagining Jon in her place made his inner wolf growl. Robb would wage war for his sweet brother._

_He looked at his Uncle’s dark gaze and at the unspoken words between them, “I promise.”_

_His Uncle Benjen looked at him proudly and grabbed him a hug. Robb leaned in, completely missing the dark smirk on his uncle’s face._

Sometimes Robb wondered why his father hadn’t legitimized him. He knew Jon wondered the same. He was a Stark in all but name and Robb was too cowardly to talk to him about it. But if Jon asked him, Robb would push their father to legitimize him. There was anything he wouldn’t do for Jon.

* * *

Theon messaged his hands after another successful archery practice session. He was decent enough with the sword, but his true skill laid with the bow. He was the best archer in Winterfell and took take pride in that fact. He may be a hostage, but he didn’t want anyone to forget that he was a Greyjoy.

He was about to return back to the castle and ready himself for supper when he heard a familiar singing voice. Theon knew he shouldn’t make the detour and should just continue on his way, but he couldn’t help himself.

Both Lord Stark and Robb would have his balls if they got an inkling that Theon had more than platonic feelings towards their beloved wolf. To say nothing of what Benjen Stark would do.

For a bastard, Jon was down right worshipped by his male relatives and Theon knew he needed to keep away, but he couldn’t help himself. Jon was one the very few people who treated him like a normal human being. He laughed at his antics and rolled his eyes at the facade he wore to mask his true feelings.

Theon would never admit it, but Jon was the only reason he curbed back on his whoring. There was nights he missed Ros, but he hated seeing the disappointment in those large grey eyes more. Every time he used to visit the brothel in Winter Town, Jon would give him the silent treatment. That hurt Theon the most. Not having Jon’s attention, no matter how limited, really was a punishment.

He now had to make do with his hand to get himself off and Theon knew he was crazy for letting Jon influence him so much, but he couldn’t help it.

Yes, Jon was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, but it was his heart that shone through. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he felt more than lust because he knew Jon wasn’t meant for him. Jon was meant for a knight straight out of a song. Someone who had Lord Stark’s honor and Robb’s kindness.

Theon made his way to the stables and watched as Jon brushed down his horse, all while singing the sweetest song. Theon recognized it as an old Northern lullaby. He heard Jon sing it to a fussy Rickard often enough and although Arya would deny it, Jon’s voice also soothed her to sleep.

For one moment the dying sunlight shone through the stable’s windows. The rays illuminated Jon and Theon’s breathe caught. He looked like an angel with his wild raven curls, pale skin and pouty lips. 

He was so engrossed in admiring Jon, he failed to notice that his presence was no longer a secret.

“Theon! Theon!” Jon shouted and with one final pat to his horse’s head, he made his way over.

He hadn’t heard Theon, but now he was concerned with how still he looked. Jon forced his blush away when he noticed Theon was wearing his training leathers. For a squid, Theon was rather handsome with deep blue eyes and raven hair. He was quite tall and although he appeared slight, Jon knew the hidden strength in those sinewy muscles.

Jon always hid how attractive he found him. There was no need to give him a bigger ego. It wasn't until Jon was right in front of him that Theon snapped out of whatever trance he was in.

Jon was quite surprised to see Theon blush when he noticed him in front of him and was curious to the reason why. But Theon could become quite prickly when it came to his feelings.

“Jon,” Theon responded and he cleared his throat. In a rare moment of gentlemanly manners, he offered his arm to Jon.

Without hesitation Jon took it. He hoped that anyone that saw them wouldn’t take anything out of context. Theon was being a gentleman. His gesture couldn’t possibly mean anything more.

They made idle talk and Theron tried to gather the courage to not only make his interest known to Jon, but to Lord Stark and Robb as well. Without their permission, much less approval, Jon would always remain outside his reach.

His thoughts were interpreted when Arya appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Jon, whining about how her mother was threatening to no longer allow her to continue to train. Theon just rolled his eyes as Jon’s attention was completely captured by his sister.

He sighed as Jon placated his sister and he was quickly led away by both Brandon and Rickard. Where the hell they had come from, he didn’t want to know. Ignorance was plausible deniability once whatever mischief they caused came to light later on. Theon just stood back and watched as Jon’s figure disappeared into the castle.

“You do realize Robb will have your balls if you keep eyeing Jon like you do,” Arya asked with an unimpressed look on her face. She crossed her arms as she stared at him. She had stayed behind and was hoping to blackmail Theon for more lessons

Frankly, she didn’t see Theon’s appeal, but he was quite amusing and although a tad too arrogant, he often took time to show her how to use the bow. That he did it because he wanted too and not to impress Jon was enough for her to like him.

But Jon was her favorite brother. Although she didn’t want him to leave Winterfell, she knew he would one day marry and Arya wanted to make that his husband truly loved him and respected him. Jon deserved the best.

But, she was a little dubious if Theon was that person. Although he was better than the other low-lives that tried to get close to her brother. Robb may think Jon was wild and he was, but he was kind and clever with a gentle heart. Arya didn’t want him to leave, especially so far away to Pyke, but their Northern Beauty deserved the best. And in the meantime, she and Brandon would continue to keep lesser men away from him.

Arya raised a brow at Theon’s shocked look. The stupid squid’s face was always so lovestruck every time Jon was around. How Robb hadn’t noticed made her shake her head.

Boys were stupid.

For one glorious moment, Theon wanted to deny it, but he knew it was useless. Arya could be quite aggravating when she wanted to be and it was less headache inducing to just go along with her madness. 

“It is that obvious?” He asked instead and rolled his eyes at the unimpressed look on her small face.

“Yes! It is quite sad honestly. You keep your cock to yourself at least. Jon is my brother and I won’t let anyone disrespect him or try to take advantage of him,” Arya stated pointblank.

Theon spluttered. The mouth on that girl. Honestly!

“You don’t have to warn me away. Lord Stark would never give me his permission to court his beloved child. I am stupid squid, remember?” Theon bitterly responded.

Yeah, boys were stupid Arya decided as she took in his dejected look. Their Father would bend over backwards if Jon asked him too. And he would if Theon made his interest known. Jon may think he was sneaky, but nothing escaped her noticed. He too would stare back at Theon.

Arya sighed and shook her head, “You better get your act together then. Jon deserves the best.”

She walked away, humming to herself. There was no use trying to get her lessons now. Not when Theon was wallowing in self-pity. Her only hope was that Jon would get his happily ever after. He deserved it.

* * *

Both Arya and Jon looked at their father unhappily. They were both barred from attending the beheading while Brandon was given permission to go. She was a girl and as such, was unable to attend while Robb didn’t want Jon anywhere near the beheading. He kept insisting that it would be too distressing for him to be present. Jon felt affronted and with one look at her, they promised to plot their revenge.

Ned looked at his brood and inwardly asked the Gods for mercy. They were all quite a handful, and although he knew Jon was strong, he couldn’t help but agree with Robb. He didn’t want Jon anywhere near the beheading either. He wanted to keep him sweet and innocent for as long as he could.

Ned look at his two pouting children and whispered in their ears when he bent down to give them a hug, “Don’t be too upset, my vicious wolf pups.”

Both Jon and Arya softened, but nothing would stop them from pranking Robb though. And based on their Father’s amused look, he knew it too and didn’t even try to stop them.

Both of them stood back and watched the party leave until they couldn’t see them anymore. With one final glance, they both ran back to the castle, already planning their revenge.

* * *

Although it was an execution like any other, Theon couldn’t help but think about the deserter’s last words. Maybe the man had lost his mind after being at the Wall for so many years that he was imaging monsters where none existed?

Theon didn’t know and he made his way back to his horse letting Robb soothe Brandon. Honestly, Robb was an idiot. Anyone with any sense in their heads knew that both Arya and Jon were made of pure steel. They were the real Stark wolves in the family and had a viciousness that amused him to no end. He wondered what prank they had in store for Robb, but he thoughts were cut short when their party came across a dying wolf.

For a moment, Theon didn’t know what he was looking at, but once it made clear, it sent a shiver down his back. Right in front of them, a dead she-wolf after being impaled by a stag’s antlers. And yet, it had died too. Right next to their corpses, her many pups whimpered out.

Brandon cried out and quickly went to their side, ignoring both his Father’s and Robb’s disapproval and begged to take the pups with them back to Winterfell.

Theon zoned out from the argument and walked away from the Starks as they discussed whether or not to keep the direwolf pups. That there was one for each legitimate Stark child was a sign. But he like Lord Stark knew that Jon would be quite upset that there was not one for him.

He walked a little further into the foliage and stopped with he heard a pitiful whimper. He approached the area and saw a white fur ball whimpering around. Without hesitation he picked it up, his heart thumping. It was another pup, the runt of the litter most likely.

Theon smiled at the pup in his hands. Now, Jon would have one of his own as well. He quickly made his way to the group, knowing that Lord Stark would agree to take the pups back.

* * *

Robb unhappily mounted his horse as Theon made a sling for the small white direwolf pup. That he had been the one to find and suggest the runt was meant for Jon was the only reason Robb hadn’t punched him. He couldn’t believe he had been too stupid to not realize Theon’s feelings towards Jon. He had assumed that because they had all grown up together that Theron saw Jon as a brother too.

Honestly, Arya was right. Boys were stupid. He marveled at how long it took him to piece it all together, but Theon had changed for the better because of Jon. All this time Robb had believed that Jon had been a good influence on Theon. Just like he was good influence for their younger siblings. Gods above knew Arya only listened to Jon!

But now that he knew, Robb was torn. Theon was the heir to a a great House and although, the Greyjoys rebelled years ago, he would one day be Lord Reaper of Pyke and Lord of the Iron Islands. From a financial and political standpoint, it was a good match and one that any bastard would only dare to dream of.

But, Robb didn’t care about that. He wanted to make sure that his sweet brother would be loved and cared for. He wouldn’t do to Jon what their grandfather did to their Aunt Lyanna. He couldn’t betrothed him or support an engagement to a man that Jon couldn’t love. Southron ambitions had almost ruined the Starks and Jon wouldn’t be the next one to pay the price. 

Yes, he was torn because he knew Theon. Theon was a good man at his core. No matter his devil may care attitude and prickly exterior, he wasn’t a a bad sort. He had gone out of his way to ensure Jon had his own pup as well. Robb cursed his honor because he knew Theon deserved the chance to present the runt to Jon himself.

Robb decided he would keep an eye on them. One foot out of line and the Iron Islands would be short an heir. 

* * *

Ned watched as Theon presented the white pup to Jon and the look on his lovely face.… it made Ned’s heart light up to say nothing of what it did to Theon.

Ned saw as Theon’s face looked at Jon awestruck. As if he couldn’t believe such a look would ever be directed at him.

Direwolves were considered to be almost extinct and one had not been seen for decades. They were thought to only live beyond the Wall. That one had made its way so far out only to find her death thanks to a stag made him uneasy. Ned was too much for a Northerner to not see the signs for what they were. His House’s sigil dead by a stag leaving behind one pup for each of his children made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He still hadn’t told his household that in a few moons the royal family would come by. He had just gathered his courage to let Benjen know and he knew that without a doubt, his brother would come. He wouldn’t allow the man he blamed for their sister’s death to be anywhere near her child.

Ned honestly wouldn’t put it past him to run with Jon at the first sign of trouble. Robert had been his foster brother and closest friend, but he wouldn’t allow him to be disrespectful towards Jon. No matter what his brother believed.

For now, he would keep an eye on Theon. Ned wasn’t blind to his past visits to Winter Town’s brothel. Towards the end, Ned had clearly seen the man Robert was becoming. Lyanna hadn’t escaped a whoring drunkard for her son to end up being married to one.

No, her son would have a choice. Ned watched as Jon laughed at the pup in his arms as he quickly lay a kiss on Theon’s cheek. 

* * *

It had been utter chaos as Winterfell prepared itself for the royal visit. Jon kept out of the away and focused on bonding with Ghost.

At first Jon had been quite sad to see each of his siblings have their very one direwolf until he saw a small white furball in Theon’s arms.

He felt his heart almost burst from his chest when he saw Theon’s bashful face. Jon knew that underneath Theon’s arrogant and rough exterior, he had a heart.

Although he knew he shouldn’t, he impulsively laid a kiss on his cheek and was quite embarrassed to see his Father standing close by, keeping an eye on them.

He wanted to make his Father proud and he knew that he shouldn’t act so forward to someone who wasn’t kin, but his emotions had gotten the better of him.

Since that day though Jon felt something had changed between them. He felt a certain tension that made his pulse beat faster and it filled him with anticipation.

Maybe after the royal family left, they would become something more. 

* * *

Since the King and the royal family came to Winterfell Jon felt suffocated. No matter how often he tried to avoid the Crown Prince, he could feel those cat-like green eyes on him no matter where he went.

Jon wondered how this royal visit could have gone to shit so quickly. His Father had known though. Had warned him that the King would see his Aunt in him and that the Queen had a very poor opinion of bastards. He had even gone as far as ordering extra guards near his rooms.

That had dampened any excitement Jon had for the visit. Since the moment the royal carriages and guardsmen were spotted, the energy around Winterfell itself changed.

Jon knew King Robert was his father’s greatest friend. That they had grown up as foster brothers and had fought to bring his Aunt Lyanna back home. Jon never told anyone but he felt such sadness when he thought of Prince Rhaegar’s death. Never once did he ever believe that he had kidnapped and raped his Aunt. How he knew this with so much certainty, Jon didn’t know, but he did. Every time he went to visit his Aunt at the crypts he knew.

His feelings were only confirmed when he saw the King get off his horse. Jon couldn’t see him as a Warrior King, not with his fat body and ruddy face. Jon had been so focused on him that he missed the startled look of the Crown Prince and the rest of the royal family getting out of the carriages.

“Where’s the Imp?” Arya whispered and Jon quickly hushed her as Sansa yelled at her to shout-up. Jon rolled his eyes skyward and asked for strength.

“You got fat!” The King yelled as he walked his way over to their Father and with one look, they both burst out laughing and embraced each other.

“Nine years! Why have I not seen you? Where the hells have you been?” King Robert shouted as he slapped their Father’s back in utter joy.

“Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” And with that he made the move to introduce his family.

Jon was barely paying attention to the introductions not when he was trying to stop a scuffle from breaking out between his two sisters when his attention was brought back by a sharp inhale and tearful whisper, “Lyanna?”

Startled, Jon looked up from Arya and Sansa and almost stepped back from the wild look on the King’s face.

“Lyanna! Ned, he is Lyanna brought back to life!” Their Father’s face paled as the King tried to approach him. His entire voice was filled with such wonder as tears ran down his face.

Jon could only stare at him wide eyed as he took in the utter silence around them. He could see Catelyn’s disapproving face and pinched mouth. As if Jon was to blame for the King’s loss of composure.

“He is Jon Snow, Your Grace, my natural-born son.” Their Father quickly added and with a quick look at Robb, Jon was shielded from view by his brother’s figure. Jon felt Arya grab his hand as Theon gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

“He is Lyanna reborn,” King Robert continued to yell.

Robert looked at Ned’s pale and disapproving face. For years he had heard rumors of his bastard. Even at the capital, he had heard how his bastard was a true Northern Beauty with a sweet singing voice and a gentle heart. Robert had scoffed at those rumors. As far as he knew, Lyanna had been the last and only true Northern Beauty.

Robert had lost the only thing he had ever wanted and in his darkest moments, he was comforted by the thought that Ned had been forced to marry a trout just as he had been forced to marry Cersei.

But seeing the boy for himself he was nothing but Lyanna’s ghost brought back to life. As much as it shamed him, he couldn’t remember what she looked like, but seeing Ned’s bastard…seeing those wild raven curls and large grey eyes it was as if all those memories were all returning back to him. Robert swore he could even see Lyanna’s wildness staring back at him!

“Lyanna,” He whispered as the Stark Heir moved to shield his lovely brother.

Robert ignored Cersei’s anger and everyone’s discomfort. He barely reacted as he was dragged away by Ned to the crypts. All he could see was those grey eyes.

* * *

Supper had been an utter disaster as far as Jon was concerned. As much as Jon wanted to sit in the lower tables to avoid the tension filled meal, he couldn’t. Not when the King ordered him to be present at every meal.

If Jon thought it would get better as the days continued on, he had been mistaken. Jon thanked the Gods that at least the King’s behavior wasn’t lecherous. Instead, he would spend each meal staring at him, his blue eyes filled with tears as he muttered about his Aunt Lyanna.

All his life Jon had heard how similar he was to his Aunt. According to his Uncle Benjen, Arya had more of her looks and attitude, but Jon had her coloring and her spirit.

Jon cursed his likeness to her for the hundredth time as he endured another supper filled with barbed remarks, tense words and awkward silences

He responded when spoken to, but mostly kept his eyes on his food. Next to him, Jon could hear Robb grind his teeth as Jon kept his hand on Arya’s knee. Since the day the royal family arrived, Arya looked like she would go off any moment. Their Father looked like he aged decades within the span of days. And Jon wanted to make it better, but he didn’t know how. It hadn’t helped that the Crown Prince also admired his looks. Had even commented that he quite looked fetching under candlelight.

For one moment, Robb looked like he wanted to lunged himself at the Crown Prince. Jon quickly thanked him and excused himself, feigning a headache. He took Rickard with him and thanked the Gods that the toddler was being extra fussy. He quickly hushed the child with a short song and quickly left the Dining Room.

Jon didn’t know what game the Prince was playing, but he wasn’t interested. Jon wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t going to become a man’s plaything because of his bastard status. The King’s attention was more than enough. But the Crown Prince?

No.

Because as much as Catelyn and Sansa believed otherwise, Jon wasn’t interested in the Crown Prince. Instead, he found his attention suffocating.

Myrcella and Tommen were very sweet children whose Mother made Catelyn looked like a saint. The Queen was beautiful, but her green eyes were cold and cruel. Since the moment she had laid eyes on him, she had been downright hateful towards him. Not outwardly, but Jon could sense it. He didn’t know what she was most offended by: her son’s apparent attraction to him or Jon’s utter indifference to it.

Because no matter what Sansa believed, Prince Joffrey was not a prince out of a song. There was something off about him that made Jon’s instincts flare up. And even if that wasn’t the case, Jon didn’t want to be King. Not if it meant being married off to the Lannisters and Baratheons.

Beyond Lord Tyrion, whose wit greatly amused Jon, and the young royal siblings, the rest of the lions and stags made his skin crawl. Jon couldn’t understand it, but he trusted his instincts and wanted them gone as soon as possible.

Once the royal family was gone, everything would return to normal.

* * *

Robert had requested to meet Ned at his solar and he prayed it was an announcement that the royal family would be leaving soon. He didn’t think his heart could take another day.

Ned was surprised to see Robert sober, his blue eyes clear and he knew then that his wish would not be granted.

“When I came North I planned to unite our families. All I could think about was how I have a son and you have a daughter and our families could finally be one. Like they should have been if Lyanna had lived.” Robert stared at Ned. Since arriving to Winterfell had been confronted with the ghost of his one true love and he wanted to make peace with those memories. Staring into Ned’s grey eyes, Robert finally had clarity.

All Ned could do was stare back. This was the most coherent Ned had seen Robert. Since the moment he had arrived he had done nothing but stare at Jon, tearful and drunk. Ned and the children were desperate to have the royal family gone from Winterfell. Jon could barely leave his rooms without being bombarded with Robert’s drunk declarations and the Crown Prince’s borderline inappropriate advances.

Since the moment the Crown Prince had laid eyes on Jon, he had done his best to woo him with small trinkets and flattering comments. Actions that made Jon deeply uncomfortable. Ned feared for the moment Benjen would arrive to Winterfell.

“Joffrey has always been too much of a Lannister. But since the moment he saw your bastard, he has been unable to look away. He is intrigued by Jon’s wildness and his Stark beauty. A true Northern Beauty like Lyanna,” Robert laughed, “His looks may be all Lannister, but he is a Baratheon at his core after all.”

Ned felt his stomach drop and it took everything he had to not drop to his chair and sob. He begged for forgiveness for what he was about to do, “Although Sansa has been raised to follow the Old Gods, she is aware-”

“No, not your Tully daughter, Ned.” Robert looked straight at him, “Jon. I can legitimatize him. Hells, I don’t even care to know who his mother is! Whether Ashara Dayne or some wrench named Wylla. He is a Stark from the tips of his raven curls to his fair skin and his grey eyes.”

“Your Grace,” Ned began, his face paling with every word coming out of Robert’s mouth.

No.

No.

No.

**NO!**

He couldn’t fail Lyanna. Not like this!

“The Queen wouldn’t be pleased-” Ned tried, but was cut-off by Robert.

“I do not give a damn what that woman thinks! And neither will Joffrey. It is obvious that he wants Jon. Ned, you should rejoice! Your bastard will one day be King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms!”

Robert clasped Ned’s shoulder, “I know this is a shock, but our families will finally be united! I couldn’t marry my Northern Beauty, but my son will. No matter how shy Jon is right now and I admit I haven’t helped matters with my behavior, but he has a good reputation. Even at the Red Keep, I heard rumors of another Stark Beauty. He is good with children too. Hells, I know Joffrey hasn’t been able to get him out of his mind, not since the first night when he put your youngest to bed with the sweetest of songs.”

Ned stared at Robert, unable to comprehend what was happening. He was stunned into silence and could only stare as Robert left his solar. Once the door was closed, he dropped into his chair and sobbed into his hands.

* * *

Theon hadn’t had a chance to really see Jon since the royal family arrived. He had never felt as powerless as he did when he saw how the King’s mournful looks made Jon uncomfortable and the Crown Prince! Those green wandering eyes made Jon flinch. He felt like he was that little boy again being taken from his home.

Jon looked burden by all the attention and all Theon wanted was to see him happy. To see that face of pure wonder he had glimpsed when he first brought Ghost to him.

Jon deserved more than being reduced to his beauty. It was with those thoughts that he planned for them to go horse ridding. He had even gotten Lord Stark’s approval and Robb’s permission. It was now clear to them that Theon planned to ask for a formal courtship. All he was waiting was for the royal family to leave. He didn’t want to imagine how the King would react to see his Lyanna look alike be courted by someone else for marriage. Especially a Greyjoy.

If Theon had known what would have happened next, he would have kept his mouth shut and silently offered Jon support instead.

He wonders now if that day had been their undoing.

There had been no outward signs of their impending doom that morning. He had worked with the stablehands to have Jon’s horse ready for the morning ride. He even asked the kitchen staff to prepare a small picnic. Jon liked riding out into the Godswood and he knew that it would cheer him up.

Jon had accepted his invitation the previous night with shy, but hopeful smile and Theon had grinned with he noticed him blush. He had heard that the King met with Lord Stark that morning and he hoped that an announcement of the departure of the royal family was forthcoming.

But soon that hope disappeared when he heard whispers from passing servants about how Lord Stark locked himself in his solar instead and drank himself to a stupor. Everyone in the entire keep knew about Prince Joffrey’s attraction to Jon. It made Lady Stark’s face pinch and sadden Sansa.

The King had delayed any betrothals for his children and it was an open secret that he hoped to finally unite the Stark and Baratheon lines. Theon prayed to the both the Drowned Gods and the Northern ones that it meant an impeding engagement between Sansa and the Prince. It would unite the Stark, Baratheon and Tully houses in marriage and Theon would happily bend the knee and squash any rebellion from his house if it meant the Prince would be tied to Sansa for the rest of his days. 

But something didn’t sit right with him. The more he went through the motions, the heavier the pit in his stomach got. Being with Jon though eased that knot of anxiety and he began to enjoy their outing. Just seeing Jon be free, the stress of the royal visit no longer a concern was enough.

Carefully, oh so carefully Theon breached the subject of the Prince and felt himself smile when he saw Jon cutely wrinkle his nose in distaste.

“I don’t need a crown to be happy. The Queen surely isn’t. If I can’t be a Stark, I wouldn't mind belonging to another.” Jon responded and he looked straight at Theon. He could feel the blush on his cheeks, but Jon had to know.

“Jon,” Theon responded, hope flaring up inside him. He reached out to Jon, his fingers tracing his blushing cheek. He gathered his courage and leaned in, but a loud scream broke the tranquil quiet.

They both looked at each other, “Arya!”

Jon didn’t hesitate and galloped wildly towards the sound, Theon riding hard behind him.

Theon couldn’t even say what happened exactly. He did, however, register seeing the Crown Prince with steel in his hand, Arya shouting obscenities at him as she held onto the bleeding boy besides her. Theon vaguely recognized him as the butcher-boy. The direwolf pups added to the entire shitshow. Their growls ferocious as they began to surround the Prince.

And then everything became a blur. Jon leaped from his horse and without hesitation moved against Prince Joffrey, easily disarming him with growl.

It was silent in the Godswoods as they all registered what happened. His quiet picnic with Jon had been shot to hell and he only hoped that they would be able to survive the brewing storm heading their way.

Theon could see Jon’s fear as he stared at the Prince, his sword on the forest floor. No one moved. Hells, Theon couldn’t even move. He could only watch.

He watched as the Prince touched the wound on his arm, a smile forming across his face. He ignored the growling pups and stepped up right to Jon, who could only stare at him with large grey eyes.

“You will be mine,” Prince Joffrey whispered and Theon saw how he reached out to touch Jon’s cheek.

Theon felt numb as everything hit him at once. He did nothing as the forest filled with people. The silence suddenly filled with shouts and curses.

Theon couldn’t move and only watched as Robb grabbed Jon and shielded him. He barely paid any mind to how the Stark guards moved to defend them from the approaching White Cloaks.

He ignored everything as Lord Stark ran into the clearing and ordered the men to stand down. Jon was quickly bundled away, the direwolf pups surrounding him as well as the Stark guards. Jon was their precious wolf and Theon knew then that it was their undoing.

Theon wasn’t stupid. In one single moment, their lives were changed. He could feel it all around him. 

Sansa was a trueborn Stark. She was half a Tully and would bring the might of the Riverlands with her if she married the Prince. But, the Prince didn’t want her. He wanted her baseborn brother. He didn’t know why, but he thought of Princess Elia then. A Princess of Dorne and yet, disposable at the end.

The Prince waved away the concerns of his guards and did nothing but stare at Jon and the retreating Stark family. Theon watched and never before had he been so happy to be forgotten.

He did nothing but stare straight ahead. He didn’t even move as the Godswoods emptied out and barely noticed when Arya dared approach him.

He could however, feel the tears run down his cold cheeks.

“I am sorry Theon,” Arya begged.

She didn’t know why, but she stayed behind. The panic of what had just happened leaving her cold and empty inside. Only Theon looked like she did. Jon had been both angry at the Prince and terrified after he had put him in his place.

Arya wanted to comfort him, wanted to throw herself at the Prince’s mercy if it made that look from Jon’s face disappear.

Seeing Theon however, made Arya want to howl in regret. She felt it then in seeing his tears that she had helped break something inside him.

What had she done?!

And why did she feel like nothing she did could ever make it right again?

Theon just felt cold just looking down at her.

“It is too late for that Arya,” he responded, his voice detached. That look in his eyes made her flinched and she bit her lips to stop herself from sobbing.

She knew she fucked up. She knew it was her fault Jon was in trouble, but she didn’t mean it! She hadn’t known that the Crown Prince would attack Mycah and all because he had seen them practicing near the Godswoods.

He was a monster and the thought that she had helped damn Jon….

No! Not after everything she and Brandon had done to keep lesser men away from him.

“We all tried to warn you that one day your impulsiveness would lead to your ruin or the ruin of this family. Fuck, Robb warned you time and time again. And now Jon will pay for the price of your wildness. Why you thought it would be a good idea to actually fight the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, I will never know. All I know is you helped take Jon away from me.”

Theon crouched down to Arya’s level, “Jon is damned either way. He stepped in between you and the Crown Prince. He will either be punished for doing so and for daring to use steel against him or he will be married off to him. Please tell me you weren’t too stupid to not see how Jon’s daring delighted him.”

Arya began to cry, but Theon felt no mercy, “You say you love Jon, but you damned him Arya. He will do everything to protect the Starks, even at the expense of his own happiness. He saved you, but he can’t save himself now.”

Theon walked away from Arya’s sobs. He didn’t stop until he reached the crypts. He didn’t have the energy to face the many looks he would garner. By now, all of Winterfell would know what happened. He finally stopped and looked up to see he stopped at Lyanna Stark’ statue.

He felt such anger looking at it, “Why did you have to die? Why couldn’t you have married Robert fucking Baratheon? Maybe he wouldn’t be so obsessed with trying to unite the Stark and Baratheon lines through Jon if you did!”

But, he got no response. Nothing but silence surrounded him and just as quickly, his anger abandoned him and he began to cry in earnest. He cried for himself. He cried for the future he would never have, but most of all he cried for Jon. Jon, who for all intends and purposes would be betrothed to a man he couldn’t love. A man who easily raised his hand against a child.

Jon was lost to him then and he knew that nothing would ever fill the hole he would leave behind.

* * *

“Something must be done!” Cersei screamed, uncaring of what the Northern savages around her would think. Since the moment she heard what happened in the Godswoods, she had become enraged. How dare the son beget from some tavern slut think he could hold his own against her Joffrey!

“A bastard cannot just lay a hand on my son, the Crown Prince, without any consequences!” She looked around her and took in the Starks’ pale faces.

The damn bastard wasn’t present and she felt her palms itch with the urge to slap him. Cersei wanted to leave this godforsaken wasteland as soon as possible, but Robert refused. Since the moment he laid eyes on his Lyanna look alike, he had done nothing but humiliate them both.

She couldn’t remember Lyanna Stark very well. Didn’t know much about her beyond that fact that she took Rhaegar away from her. But she knows with certainty that she didn’t possess half of her golden beauty. And yet, she had ruined everything! Rhaegar was taken from her and Robert barely tolerated her, too haunted by Lyanna’s ghost to ever give a damn beyond his whores and wine.

Yes, Cersei couldn’t remember the wolf-bitch too well, but she knows with certainty that she never possessed the bastard’s extraordinary beauty. It made her feel both affronted and afraid.

_Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

A mere bastard couldn’t take everything from her! Especially not Lyanna Stark’s baseborn nephew!

Cersei hadn’t sacrificed years of her life for a fucking bastard to take her crown from her. She had lost her dignity thanks to Robert for years on end and for what? For Lyanna Stark’s shade to take it all away?

No, Jon Snow would not be her undoing.

But, Cersei wasn’t stupid. She saw how her precious Joffrey looked at him. She had prayed to the Seven that he would amuse himself with him by toying with him and yet, that didn’t happen.

The bastard pretended to be virtuous and politely ignored his advances. But, it seemed the Seven were finally smiling down at her. She would use this to rid herself of him and if she could mar that beautiful pale face? Well, it would be worth it.

She looked around her and could feel Lord Starks’ fear. She thrived off it and knew that she had the upper hand, but she was cut-off by Joffrey’s drawl.

“Mother, calm yourself.” Identical green eyes stared at each other, but he ignored his mother’s hysteria without comment. Joffrey touched the bandage around his arm and smiled.

He hadn’t wanted to come so far North to a frozen wasteland filled with semi-civilized savages at first, but he was glad he did. Who would have guessed that he would find such a well-hidden treasure in such a barren place? 

Joffrey had heard about the Bastard of Winterfell, but never paid much attention to such rumors. What was a bastard compared to a prince?

And yet, since the moment, he saw those raven curls…never before had he seen such beauty! He didn’t even know what he liked the most. Those grey eyes framed by thick lashes or that rosy full mouth! It was obvious that Lord Stark doted on his bastard as did his Heir. He was dressed in the best clothes that draw attention to his slender body and fat ass.

But, it was the first night that Jon truly ensnared him. The way he calmed the cranky toddler! The ease with how he placed the boy on his hip and crooned such a sweet lullaby! Joffrey’s cock had been hard since. He had never felt the urge to breed someone with such urgency before, but by the Gods, the bastard awakened such base desires within him!

Joffrey knew better than to let his mask slip, but he had been irritated that morning. Nothing he did eased Jon to his affections. All he got for his efforts was a small and polite smile. He wasn’t stupid. He could see how those large grey eyes looked at him in quiet disinterest and it only wetted his appetite to have him in his bed.

Joffrey knew then that he wasn’t like anyone he had ever met before. Wenches and power-hungry whores that claimed to be virtuous when all they wanted was a crown. Lord Stark’s affections towards his bastard ensured that no one would dare to treat like a disposable toy. Jon was all he claimed to be.

If Lyanna Stark had been anything like Jon, no wonder the realm went to war for her. He too would be willing go to war to have the Bastard of Winterfell. Especially when he noticed a certain hostage around Jon. He could see how easily Jon smiled and laughed in his presence and it made him feel jealous and enraged. What could a mere squid offer such beauty? By his side, Jon would want for nothing. He would have raise him to be his equal and yet, his royal status meant nothing to the bastard.

That realization was why he had taunted the Stark boy-girl and the butcher-boy. They had been easy targets. But, he had let his temper get the best of him. He can see that now. He had let his mask slip and Jon had seen through him. Had galloped wildly on his horse and not once hesitated to parlay his sword against his.

All Joffrey can recall now are those large grey eyes filled with fire. The indignity on that lovely face enraptured him. Jon truly was a contradiction of fire and ice. He hadn’t even felt the cut on his arm as Jon disarmed him. All he could see was his passion and strength.

Joffrey had never wanted anything or anyone as much as he wanted Jon.

He looked at Lord Stark’s pale face and his Heir angry one. He looked at his mother’s obvious jealousy and his father’s amusement and made his choice.

* * *

The moment Benjen had gotten Ned’s raven he hadn’t hesitated to ask for permission to visit Winterfell. He used the excuse of recruiting more brothers to be able to make the trip. Although he would have gone regardless of what the Lord Commander decided in the end.

For years, he had played his part. He had joined the Night’s Watch because the thought of seeing Ned’s face and their family’s absence made him lose control. Lyanna was dead and years later, he blamed their Father, Ned and Robert fucking Baratheon for her loss.

Their Father’s Southron ambitions led him to make such ill-advised betrothals and it had almost led them to their ruin. However, it did brighten Benjen’s heart to see Ned tied down to cold, Southron woman. Maybe in another life, Ned and Catelyn would have found mutual love and respect, but in this life, it wasn’t meant to be.

The brutality of the Watch hid Benjen’s violent anger and he swore his hatred would have killed him if it hadn’t been for Jon.

The moment Ned brought Jon back, he knew. One look into those grey eyes and raven curls, Benjen knew that his sister had given up her life for her child.

The world may only see Lyanna in those grey eyes, but Benjen could also see a Dragon as well. Benjen didn’t hate Prince Rhaegar. He only wished the Battle at the Trident would have ended differently.

But, he consoled himself with the knowledge that their child lived. Every time Benjen laid eyes on Jon he felt more alive. And with each passing moon, Jon was becoming more his mother’s child. So fierce and yet, so sweet. Just like his mother before him he blossomed to a true Northern Beauty. Seeing that beauty Benjen swore that Jon couldn’t share his mother’s fate.

However, the moment he stepped into Winterfell, Benjen could feel an oppressive aura fill the keep. For the first time in over a decade, it made him feel afraid.

What the hells had Robert Baratheon done to their family now?

He didn’t have to wait long when he made his way to Jon’s room, easily noticing the increase of guards near his door.

Benjen couldn’t wait any longer and made his way inside the room and noticed Jon weeping in his sheets.

“Jon?” He softly called out, stopping at how his nephew look so small.

“Uncle Benjen!” Jon cried out, launching himself to his arms. He felt relief seeing his Uncle and knew he would help him.

The small body in his arms sobbed violently and Benjen felt a sense of foreboding sweep through him.

“Jon?” He asked again, gently lifting up Jon’s face to meet his eyes. Those large grey eyes were filled with tears as his slender body shook with sobs.

Benjen remembered similar grey eyes looking so lost and heartbroken once upon a time….

_“Benjen!” Lyanna cried as her grey eyes filled with tears._

_He always saw his sister as larger than life. Although she was small and slender, she had an inner strength and an iron will that made Northern grown man step back. Benjen didn’t even know Lyanna was capable of such tears! Not his fierce and lively sister._

_“Benjen,” Lyanna sobbed and he hugged her, feeling scared for her. What could have happened to make his sister cry so?_

“Uncle Benjen! Father-” Jon couldn’t even say the words. He hadn’t never meant to gain the royal family’s attention.

His uncle’s gentle shushing calmed him somewhat, but he felt dead inside when he said the next words, “The King plans to betrothed me to his son! I don’t want to marry him! He is cruel and dishonorable!”

Those words made Benjen freeze and he huged Jon with all the strength in his body.

_“Father betrothed me to Robert Baratheon! I don’t want to marry him! He is cruel and a lecherous drunk!” Lyanna sobbed. She had essentially been bartered away and Benjen felt nothing but grief for his sister._

_Why couldn’t their father see that their she-wolf wanted more out of life than being a man’s property?_

How could Ned be so foolish? No, how could he had been so stupid to believe that Ned would finally do right by their family? That he would protect Lyanna’s child when it had been partly his fault that their father betrothed Lyanna to Robert due to his word?

Why couldn’t Ned see that the South did nothing but bring them grief? Why did his love for Robert came at the expense of his own family?

“You won’t be married off to a man you didn’t choose. Fuck the King!” Benjen hissed angrily. Lyanna’s son wouldn’t suffer her fate. He should have run with Jon years ago and spared them all this agony.

“Uncle, promise me, please!” Jon asked, grey eyes looking at him with hope.

Since the moment his Father had informed him that the Prince asked for his hand in marriage, Jon had felt something inside him shattered. 

He had forgiven Arya, but she looked haunted. Even Mycah looked remorseful, but Jon waved away his apologies. Jon wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what he had walked in on. How could a Crown Prince raise his sword against children? And all for what? His pride?

Jon didn’t want to be tied down to such a dishonorable man, but his Father’s haunted eyes made him flinch. He had woodenly informed him that the King had approached him the day before the scene at the Godswoods for a match. All Jon could do was stare at him in horrified silence.

Jon felt like was sleepwalking and all he wanted was to wake up.

Theon could barely look at him and Robb did nothing but fret, utterly helpless.

Catelyn had been angered though and Sansa affronted. A trueborn was being overlooked and all for a bastard. Sansa now refused to speak with him, while Catelyn didn’t dare speak out. Jon had the favor of both a King and Crown Prince, there was no telling what he could do against them. But, Jon didn’t want that power.

For fuck’s sake, he would happily dance at Sansa’s wedding with Prince Joffrey if it came down to it! Because as much as they didn’t believe him, Jon wanted nothing to do with the royal family. His only hope was that the Queen or her father would deny the match.

Gods, he hoped so.

No matter where he went, Jon could feel the eyes of everyone around him. He felt suffocated and alone.

He looked at his Uncle, “Promise me.”

He didn’t want to marry the Crown Prince. He would rather ran away then to ever become Jon Baratheon.

Benjen looked at those grey eyes, Lyanna’s eyes, “I promise.”

Those words made Jon sob in pure relief and he could feel his eyes close. For the first time in a long time, he could finally sleep.

Benjen just gathered Jon in his arms before softly laying him in bed. He ran his hand through Jon’s raven curls and felt the anger in him build.

Lyanna hadn’t runaway from Robert so her child, the boy she had given her life for, would end up married to his son.

Like Father, like son it seemed. Both unwilling to see that they were not wanted. Their obsession damning those around them.

But unlike Lyanna, Jon wouldn’t die. Not far from home, locked in a tower, alone. For years Benjen had heard whispers at the Wall. Had seen Aemon Targaryen and wondered….

It was time he took a more active role. Clearly, Ned couldn’t be trusted.

Benjen did nothing but stare at Jon’s sleeping face. Didn’t even react when he felt Robb make his way over. He could recognize that gait anywhere.

“You promised once to keep him safe,” He whispered and with a shake of his head forestall Robb’s words.

Robb closed his mouth and stared at Jon, who finally looked at peace. His cheeks were flushed with sleep, his curls framing his face.

The past few days had been utter chaos and he damned the moment the King and his family came to Winterfell. Never before had he felt so powerless. Robb looked at Jon and felt so afraid.

“What is a trout in the face of a wolf? Nothing. What is a stag in the face of a wolf? Prey.” Benjen stated as he turned to look at Robb. He didn’t care that his words were treasonous. Robert was an Ursupeer. The rightful King was in their presence.

Benjen had made too many mistakes where Ned was concerned and he refused to bend his knee any longer.

“My sister was once engaged to a man she didn’t love and she paid for it with her life. Your Father could never see Robert Baratheon for who he was and the Starks paid for it with their lives. Do you love Jon?” He asked and he took gratification in seeing Robb’s affronted face.

“More than anything,” Robb swore.

“I couldn’t save Lyanna,” Benjen grasped Robb’s shoulder. He looked into those Tully eyes and pleaded, “Don’t make my mistakes. Protect him.”

Robb nodded his head and watched his Uncle walk away.

The Starks were on the edge of precipice and Jon wouldn’t be the one to pay with his life.

* * *

Ned stopped short the moment he walked into his solar and saw Benjen seated in his chair. He didn’t say anything, knowing that by now, that he knew and that nothing he could say would change anything.

“How could you have let this happen?” Benjen asked in a soft tone as he looked at Ned.

Ned open his mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the words. All he could do was look helplessly at his brother.

Benjen let out a bitter, short laugh. “I trusted you. I should have known better though. But, you swore you promised her to protect her child and I believed you. Like an utter fool I believed in your honor. I should have run with Jon the moment you came back from the war with Lyanna’s corpse behind you.”

Ned looked away and tightened his fists. He knew he had no defense. Had laid awake for days trying to think of a way out.

“Her child won’t suffer her fate, Eddard!” Benjen smacked his hands on the table, the loud sound vibrating across the room.

“I don’t care what you need to do. Call the banners for all I care, but her child won’t be bartered off like she was.” And with that he threw his first punch.

* * *

Jon walked to the crypts, his steps quiet. With the help of Arya he was able to make his way undetected. The oppressive energy around the castle was slowly driving him insane. But with his Uncle here, he had finally worked up the courage to seek Theon out.

Jon didn’t care what his family believed, he wasn’t going to marry Prince Joffrey. Carefully, he lit up the candles around him, easily recognizing that he was in front of his Aunt Lyanna’s statue. He knew they wouldn’t be bothered, not with the royal party out hunting.

He looked up at his Aunt Lyanna and honestly couldn’t blame her if she hadn’t wanted to marry the King. Once look at Cersei Lannister and the bitter woman she was and Jon wanted nothing with the Crown.

“I wonder my sweet what you are doing here by yourself,” The southron drawl behind him made Jon pale as he turned to look at Prince Joffrey.

He could do nothing but stare at him, stunned. He had thought that he had joined the rest of the royal family and had no words.

Joffrey smirked as he saw those wide grey eyes. He had clearly surprised his bastard and it was a good look on him. He hadn’t been able to see the beauty since the moment his wilding uncle came from the Wall. Joffrey wasn’t stupid. Jon was being kept from him and it annoyed him that Lord Stark hadn’t been overjoyed to know his bastard would one day be his Consort. Never before had a baseborn risen so high and yet, all the Starks looked less than pleased.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” he began as he approached him. Joffrey was lucky that the white direwolf was nowhere to be found. It was only him and Jon.

“We should get to know one another as our betrothal is forthcoming. We will of course marry in a Sept, but I have no issue with a Northern wedding as well. I am quite eager actually.” With those words he grasped Jon and forcefully kissed him.

Jon gasped and tried pushed him away, but it was too late. The damage had been done when he looked up to see Theon’s blank face looking at them.

He stared at him, his grey eyes tearing. Jon felt the Prince’s hands on his hips and knew that they made quite a compromising picture. Jon tried to open his mouth, but Theon beat him too it.

“It seems like I am interrupting.” Those cold words and the even colder blue eyes made Jon freeze.

“Theon,” he whispered, but it was too late. Theon left him behind and he could feel the Prince’s smirk as he laid a kiss on his neck.

“Darling, this isn’t a good look. As a Stark, you have every right to come to the crypts, but unmarried men shouldn’t come looking for you. Especially not the son of a traitor.”

Those words made Jon growl and he pushed the laughing Prince from him.

“You have no right-” Jon began, but was cut short by the Prince’s tight grip on his hips. Jon had underestimated his strength.

“Actually, I have every right! I am the Crown Prince, the future King of this realm. And you, Jon Snow, will be my husband.” Green eyes looked at Jon as the hands around his hips became even tighter.

“Do you think Theon fucking Greyjoy would have ever married you?! I haven’t been here for long and yet, even I know of his whoring.” Jon felt a hand leave his left hip, only to grab onto his hair. He was forced to look into those hateful green eyes and Jon wanted to spat in his face.

“I have seen so many beauties. Women and men from Great Houses all eager to wear a crown and I admit, I find your reluctance charming. But only up to a point. I do not want to see the squid near you again or I will burn his precious Pyke to the ground if I have too.” 

Jon stilled in his grip and with one forceful kiss, he was let go. Jon felt the tears run down his face and didn’t let out a sound until the Prince was gone.

He was doomed and for once, he didn’t know what to do or who to turned too. He sat down next to his Aunt’s statue and wept.

* * *

Joffrey walked up from the crypts and smiled. It had been a very productive morning. Now a pesky squid would no longer be an obstacle and, if he was, he would follow through with his promise. Joffrey wasn't his Father. He would marry his Northern Beauty. Jon Snow will be his, even if he had to force his hand and threatened all he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit it feels a little unfinished, but I wanted to leave this one-shot really open-ended. I may return to this later and finish it up with a "finale". Or I may write it from the pov of other characters, I decided to post it as it was getting way too long. As y'all know, this story is mostly filled with bittersweet and/or tragic endings, so that is a clue as to where this is heading...
> 
> Until next time!


	22. The King and his Lionheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we don’t get the ending we hoped for nor the ending we deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Ch.21. 
> 
> For RulerofTheCosmos whose review inspired this ending. 
> 
> I also want to thank GreenPowerBank, whose comments also inspired some of the dialogue. Be on the look-out for a spin off chapter!
> 
> Sorry for the delays! It was a rough few weeks. I want to thank everyone who left me such sweet messages. I am happy to report that I did well in all my classes and got all A's! I did have some health things pop up, but I am in treatment so everything should be okay long-term. However, this may affect how often I update my stories.

King Jon makes the loveliest picture. Poised and graceful, he is known for his courage and righteousness. From a bastard to a Baratheon to finally a Targaryen, their King had succeeded inrighting the madness that had befallen the Seven Kingdoms when his father had been struck down at the Trident.

From all the corners of the known world, he was known for his skills with the sword and his might as a commander. Like his father before him, King Jon did not like war, he didn’t like killing, but he was truly a Stark with the ferociousness he showed in battle.

King Jon is loved. Even though he been married off to the False King to save his beloved North, he weathered the madness that was Cersei Lannister and brought dragons back into the world.

War should have destroyed Westeros completely, but their beloved King did not allow anarchy to rein. He destroyed House Baratheon and their supporters, the Tyrells, and brought Dorne to its knee. The Martells bowed, bent and broke to him before he annihilated their House and installed Edric Dayne as the new Warden of Dorne.

All knew of his words when the Pretender Queen Arianne was brought before him. The King didn’t flinch from her snarled words and false accusations. All the courtiers were in awe of his calm temperament and the serene look on his lovely, pale face.

To Jon, Arianne was nothing but a pest. He may hate Joffrey, but his late husband had shown him the price of his naivety. It was the same naivety that allowed the Boltons to kill his brothers. He had once been too foolish to not see the vipers around him and he so easily believed in Oberyn’s sweet poisonous words.

Jon stared down at Arianne. The Martells would die for siding against him and defying the Crown. He would always be sorry for what happened to Princess Elia, but Oberyn raped him as revenge against his mother. Jon would have willingly laid with him and yet, Oberyn had chosen his revenge instead and so the Martells would pay the price for dancing with dragons.

“I spent my early life in the North surrounded by my beloved family. I had my Father, my Uncle and Robb to protect me, to shield me. I had my many siblings to brighten up my day. And yet, I was given away like a broodmare in the end. I’ve been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled by men who claimed to love me.” Grey eyes stared Arianne down and she shivered at the coldness in those orbs.

Jon Targaryen was lovely and she could so easily see why her Uncle Oberyn had once considered defying their family for him. But the Starks had taken so much from them. It was thanks to Lyanna that their Princess had been set aside and killed in the most horrific of ways. The former bastard may have hated his first husband, but the Lannisters had not payed for their crimes.

When Arianne had been brought into the throne room, she had seen all of the Small Council present. She felt nothing but pride that they had considered her a threat. So much so that they needed a show of power. However, her blood boiled when she saw the Imp and the Kingslayer present amongst the group.

Jon may claim to be righteous, but the Lannisters still lived and Arianne would stop at nothing until they were all dead.

“Do you know what kept me standing through all those miserable years?” Jon continued, “Faith. Not any gods, who I felt abandoned me. But faith in myself. In Jon Snow. Because that is who I am. The Dragon in me is the reason why my beloved children were born. No one had seen dragons for centuries and yet, here they are. I am Jon Snow and I am meant to rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jon looked down at the poor foolish girl pretending to be Queen and with a few words destroyed her and her House. He meant what he said. He was meant to rule the Seven Kingdoms. With fire and blood if need be.

* * *

Jon stared out from his window, watching the sunrise. It was always a welcomed sight. For such a long time, he feared he would no longer see it. So many people had tried to kill him throughout the years, so many that he had lost count and yet, here he stood.

He closed his eyes and straighten his spine. It was time. He had his duties to attend to. No good came from losing himself in memories and dreams.

Jon swiftly made his way out his room, acknowledging the guards and servants that bowed in his presence.

The price to wear his crown in his own right had been heavy, but he knew that his reign needed stability.

After Joffrey and Oberyn, marriage was not something he was keen on, but Yara had the truth of it. Without a heir, Westeros would descend to civil war. Although Jon had taken some enjoyment from seeing the Baratheon, Tyrell and Martell lines end, he was tired of fighting.

He was tired of death.

Jon swiftly made his way the council room and waved away the bows from his Small Council. Yara, as his Hand, sat on his right and Sansa, as his Mistress of Whispers sat on his left. These were the women he had absolute trust in and he needed their wisdom more than ever.

He went through the motions of addressing the financial and political matters of the kingdom andignored Tyrion’s searching looks. Jon knew that once the meeting was over Yara would speak to him of their concerns.

Once the meeting was done, the council left while Yara stayed behind. Jon smiled at Sansa, who squeezed his hand in support before leaving.

Yara sighed and looked straight at him. That blue eyed stared no longer haunted him, but with the subject matter at hand, all Jon could think of was of Theon.

“You of all people deserve to find happiness and if that meant never marrying again, I would be all for it. But you are King and a King needs an heir. Rumors of your infertility have quieted down, but Jon, as your Hand, you need to make a decision.”

Yara saw Jon flinch. The Red Keep was a cesspool. Maybe less so than in the past, but it was her love for Jon and her promise to Theon that kept her here. She missed the sea and her ships, but Jon needed her.

“And who are the contenders?” Jon asked, knowing there was no running from this conversation.

“The forerunner is Edric,” Yara responded and she hoped Jon would choose him. Edric was kind and Jon deserved all the kindness in the world.

“I would prefer Edric to marry Sansa, if she is willing,” Jon stated and felt annoyed at seeing Yara roll her eyes.

“I am sure Sansa would be flattered, but we all know he has a tender spot for you. He is a kind and honorable man-” She was cut off by Jon.

“And Sansa deserves a kind and honorable man, especially after what Ramsey put her through. Edric is loyal to the Crown and there is no one else I trust more with my sister and the last remaining Stark than him.”

“You deserve a kind and gentle husband as well,” Yara gently stated. She bit down on her lips and knew her next words would more than likely enrage Jon, but she had to say them.

“He would want you to be happy-” Jon stood up and walked away from her. He felt his hands ball up in anger.

“Theon is dead,” Jon responded, “He died for me and I will always love him. If Robert had stayed in the South all the years ago, we would have married and my family would still be alive. But Edric is not for me. He is a good man. A good, **naive** man who would never understand what it is like being the last Dragon. He is in love with a facade of me. He doesn’t even know me!”

The shout startled her, but Jon kept talking, “Joffrey broke me. I hate him for what he did to my family. For what he did to the North in his pursuit of me, but he loved me in his own way. And then Oberyn came along and I thought he would help me. Instead, he raped me and gave the Tyrells our troop’s movements. I am tried of love, Yara! I am sick of it! I will marry, but this time it will be my choice and fuck what the council wants!”

The outpouring of anger left Yara breathless, but Jon had spoken nothing but the truth. She reached out to him and didn’t feel offended that he refused any comfort. Jon may look like a Northern Beauty straight out a song, but he had a coldness in him that Yara knew no one could ever reach.

Jon breathed in and arranged his facial expression to a serene blank look before leaving the room. He would marry, but this time, it would be his own choice. Jon was no longer a naive little boy who had his family around him. He was a survivor. He had killed and ordered the deaths of thousands. He had brought Westeros to its knees by using his children. Jon didn’t need a knight from a song, he needed a killer.

* * *

Jaime was a broken man. The loss of his hand almost led him to lose himself. He had done so many things, terrible things for a woman who couldn’t love. His sister who in the end finished what Aerys had started. He had become a Kingslayer and in the end, Cersei had burnt down the city.

His children dead and although his two youngest didn’t deserve their deaths, Joffrey…Joffrey had been a monster. Sometimes, he wonders how Jon is able to keep sane.

He had watched his beloved Winterfell burn. He had watched the bannermen break fealty and bend the knee to Bolton and his bastard. He had seen all of his brothers die before him and Arya lose herself to revenge. Only he and Sansa remained, both of them united in a single purpose, their childhood grievances and petty slights forgotten and forgiven in the face of true evil.

But most of all, he lost the man he truly loved to a madman. Theon Greyjoy’s torture, mutilation and death had been quite gruesome. But no one can deny that his sacrifice allowed them to retake Winterfell.

Jaime respected Jon. Cared for him and if Tyrion was correct in why he wanted to meet with him, Jaime would decline. Jon was meant for more. He was a strong and beautiful young man and he deserved so much more than whatever Jaime would give him.

“What a pair we make,” Jon smiled as he looked at him.

Seeing that smile made Jaime self-conscious. Once, he had been a golden lion and now he felt like a mangy mutt. But, Jon? He was still ever so lovely. All the pain and suffering had added wisdom and grace to those grey eyes. But, it was his strength that still pulled Jaime in.

It was that very strength that made him feel ashamed.

Only Robert had been happy when Jon married Joffrey. Anyone with eyes could see how Jon wanted nothing to do with him. And everyone could see how little Joffrey cared.

“Tyrion no doubt clued you in on why I am keen in meeting with you.” Jon stated as those grey searching eyes looked right through him.

“You are a Kingslayer. You killed my grandfather and your negligence led to the death of my half-siblings. You fucked your own sister and sired the man everyone insisted in calling my husband. You lost your hand due to your cockiness and yet, Jaime, here we are! If I must marry then I insist to marry the man who killed his own son to keep me safe.”

Jaime was startled by that declaration, “You know? How did you know? I thought all these years…”

He trailed off as Jon let out a laugh.

“I always wanted to thank you for it! Joffrey was a psychotic monster who would have no doubt finished what Aerys started and well, Cersei did a good job of that once Oberyn sold us out and burnt down Kingslanding in revenge.”

Jaime flinched, but Jon refused to have him hide away. He reached out and gently caressed his cheek. Jaime had once been a very gorgeous man. The years hadn’t been kind to him, but he still retained some of his good looks.

“Everyone insists that Edric is the better choice. He is kind, gentle and honorable. He sometimes reminds me of Father and Robb actually. But I am no longer a kind and gentle man. That boy died the moment Joffrey and I were wedded. You killed for me, Jaime. You have stood by my side as my children burnt down entire keeps to bring their Lords to their knees. You sold out your own children for me. You know exactly what I am capable of. I don’t need to hide from you. But most of all, you are honorable in your own way. No one who has survived Aerys, Tywin, Cersei and mutilation can’t help but see that the world is nothing but shades of grey.”

Jaime couldn’t formulate a response. He had done so many terrible things to help Prince Rhaegar’s son. From the moment Jon had open his mouth so long ago and sang a Northern lullaby to soothe his youngest brother, Jaime knew. He knew then what Ned Stark had done, but he said nothing.

Both he and Selmy had said nothing, not even to each other. They had both recognized that tenor in Jon’s voice and both of them had felt nothing but relief that Robert saw Lyanna Stark’s shade instead. So much so that he didn’t hear the voice of the Last Dragon coming from Jon’s lips.

Instead, he and Selmy had protected Jon. And they hated themselves for allowing him to live his grandmother’s fate. They couldn’t protect Queen Rhaella from Aery’s lust and had to stand watch as her grandson was raped night after night just like she had been so many years before.

It haunted them both to be powerless once again and it was why Jaime could never begrudge Jon in his choices.

Jaime looked at Jon. His coloring was all Stark, but his blood was all Targaryen. The only thing he shared with Prince Rhaegar was their voice, but beyond that, Jon was himself. A boy who survived what had destroyed his grandmother. A boy who buried almost all of his family and who lost his heart’s desire when Ramsey Snow went to battle wearing Theon’s flayed skin.

Jon Targaryen stood before him and Jaime could see his darkness. But although he would insist it wasn’t true, Jaime could see his heart as well. Jaime had been surrounded by monsters all his life and had once loved a monster. What was one more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that is curious, the Small Council:  
Yara: Hand  
Sansa: Mistress of Whispers  
Davos: Master of Ships  
?:Master of Coin (Wasn't really sure)  
Sam: Grand Maester  
Tyrion: Master of Law  
?: Lord Commander of the Kingsguard (Wasn't really sure)
> 
> FYI, Dany and Viserys don't exist in this universe. I also have come spin-off ideas and may write them in future chapters. For now, this storyline is somewhat complete. Jon survives Joffrey and becomes King. However, I do not know whether I will write the behind the scenes of how all this came to be.


	23. Breaking the Fourth Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the afterlife, Prince Rhaegar is furious to see his actions turned against him. All Lyanna and Elia do is laugh at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of three spin-offs based on the events from Ch. 21. For this spin-off, this is all taking place months before Robert sent out a raven to let Ned know of his intention to visit Winterfell.

Jaime hadn’t wanted to come North. The last thing he wanted was to see Ned Stark’s sour face. The man could never forgive him for his finest act, no matter that Jaime killed the man who ordered the deaths of his father and brother in the most hideous of ways. Maybe he resented him for having no other choice but to keep the oaths of his family?

Jaime really didn’t care for his reasoning. All he knew that for the foreseeable future he would have to suffer the company of a man who he really didn’t care for. How Robert could hold him in high esteem when by all accounts Stark was a stick in the mud, he didn’t know.

There were times he resented being a Lannister and this was one of them. After years of paying off Robert’s whoring debts and lining the pockets of the Crown, his Father had finally gotten his wish. Jaime was released from his vows and he been sent back to the Rock as his Heir once again. Why his Father couldn’t see that Tyrion was his true Heir, he didn’t know. But never before had he resented his noble status. Sitting in boring ass meetings and talks did nothing to improve his deposition. That his Father also wanted him to marry him off also added to his resentment. Jaime wondered if this was how women felt. He had no interest to reproduce with any of the insipid females his Father threw at him.

He knew that no one could ever match Cersei’s golden beauty, but he knew more than anyone how beauty masked the blackness of someone’s heart. For years he had stood by his sister’s side and against his better judgement fucked a child in her. That Joffrey had turned out to be psychotic was his first clue. Their relationship was poisonous and one day it would led to their doom.

Jaime may have not had much hope left, not after Aerys and the brutal murder of Princess Elia and her children, but he liked to think he had some heart still left in him. He would never forgive his Father for the deaths nor could he forgive Cersei’s compliance in the matter. If they wanted their damn crown so much, Jaime could leave it to them. He had no doubt that Joffrey would destroy it anyways. Over a decade of marriage and only one child was the result of Cersei’s and Robert’s loveless marriage. He wondered if anyone would ever wonder why Joffrey didn’t have a single Baratheon feature and whether he would lose his life for it.

They all would.

Prince Rhaegar’s death had unleashed a madness across the Seven Kingdoms and Jaime wondered when they would all burn for it.

For now, he would do his duty. He would travel North and put up with Stark’s judgmental stares. Maybe, just maybe, being so far away from his family’s ambitions would be good for him.

* * *

As he expected, Stark treated him with borderline civility, no doubt incensed that he had to extend guest rights to a man he detested. Jaime enjoyed riling him up, both of them quite aware of how much their Houses needed a trade agreement.

But for all his honor and self-righteousness, Stark had fathered a bastard. A beautiful bastard boy whose face made Jaime do a double take. Cersei’s golden beauty paled next to his. But it wasn’t just his lovely looks that drew Jaime in, it was his heart too. He was gentle with his many siblings and was quite beloved by the servants and the smallfolk in Winter Town.

Simply put, Jon Snow was kind.

Jaime could only look at him in awe. But, also sadness. Princess Elia had been both kind and gentle and she had died a horrific death for it.

No wonder Stark kept a very close eye on his beautiful bastard. Based on how he and his Heir acted and the stink eyes he got from the youngest Stark children, Jon was Winterfell’s precious wolf.

Courting Jon Snow was an awful idea, but Jaime couldn’t look away.

There was a fierceness in him as well. Jaime had discovered one morning as he saw Jon train with his oldest brother in the ring. Jon was not only a beauty with a kind heart, but he was talented with a sword and Jaime was done for. 

He wondered how angry Tywin Lannister would get when he learned of Jaime’s infatuation with a bastard, Stark’s bastard no less. No gold in the world would sway Stark to give away his beloved child to an oath-breaker. To say nothing of the disgust his own Father would feel.

Jaime didn’t give a damn.

* * *

Tyrion nervously wrangled his hands, “Fuck!” He whispered to himself. His brother’s latest fuck-up left him in the unenviable position to let their Father know the news. If Tywin Lannister didn’t lose his shit when Tyrion told him what his golden son had gotten himself into now, he would give up his whores and wine.

There was no doubt Tyrion loved his brother. Jaime was the only one who truly loved him and cared for him. No matter how bullheaded his brother could be and lets not get him started on how he once fucked their sister and got her pregnant with their so-called Crown Prince, but Tyrion loved Jaime. And it due to that love that he would help Jaime survive what was coming next.

He gathered all his courage and walked into his Father’s solar. He thanked the Gods that his Uncle Kevan was there. They would all need his steady and calm demeanor.

“Father,” Tyrion called out and ignored his Father’s glare.

He made his way to take a seat and tried to find the best words, but fuck it, there was no sugar-coating the truth, “Jaime stole away Lord Stark’s beloved bastard and the North is calling for his head.”

“**WHAT?!**” Tywin yelled out, his papers dropping the floor. Uncle Kevan began coughing, his eyes wide.

Tyrion looked at both of them and repeated his words again. Slowly this time.

“Jaime kidnapped Jon Snow, Lord Stark’s beloved bastard, for a marriage cloak.”

Seeing both of them look at him with identical stunned expressions, he continued, “Lord Stark is up in arms, threatening to call his banners. He has also threatened to cut off all trade from the rest of the kingdom if his son isn’t returned to him. By now, the King has been notified. And we all know what happened last time when a so-called Northern Beauty was kidnapped from their home….”

To both their astonishment, Tywin fainted, his body dropping the floor. Tyrion just stared at his father’s body and called out for the Maester and some wine. A shit ton of wine. As chaos reigned all around him, Tyrion could admit to himself that it could have gone worse.

How much worse, he didn’t want to think about it. Instead, his pocket burned with Jaime’s latest letter. Tyrion hoped to the Gods that his new husband had more sense. They were all going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to try something more lighthearted and will more than likely add to it.


	24. Your heart is made of glass and my mind of stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery is Queen, but it comes at a heavy price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new storyline. This was inspired on GoT dialogue. However, I do want to follow-up on my last one-shots. Right now, I am trying my best to make time and update all my stories. Hope you guys enjoy!

Margaery looked at her image and gently touched the mirror. Seventeen years later and the realm was nothing but people constantly back-stabbing, scheming, arse-licking and money-rubbing their way to the top. And no one did better than the Tyrells.

But no matter their successes, her grandmother would have been appealed to see how she had failed to truly secure the realm.

Stannis barely tolerated her. He took no interest in what she did, much less what she thought. All her life she wanted to be more than a pretty ornament and now she was not even that. For the thousandth time she felt the similar hatred spread through her veins.

Damn Jon Stark!

Damn him to hell and back.

He took everything from her. First Aegon’s love and then Stannis’ regard.

And how foolish she had been to think that she would ever have his affection! Dutiful, cold and stubborn Stannis. The man who broke his oaths and loyalty to his cousins and his King and all for a boy most considered a bastard.

The years had done nothing but harden his heart. Stannis becoming even more self-righteous and rigid and whatever compassion he once had had been stripped by the death of that Northern whore.

Margaery wishes more than ever that those Northern savages hadn’t come South. That Ned Stark had kept his brood away from the tourney at Harrenhal. But no, the wolves had come and to her utter disgust, Ned Stark had been cut from the same cloth as Stannis. He had continued to honor the engagement between his late father and the Baratheons.

His sister, Lyanna, had chosen to dishonor herself rather than become Lady of Storm’s End. Her disgust for Robert well known throughout the kingdom. Brandon Stark, on the other hand, dishonored Lady Ashara Dayne and married her in secret, scorning his betrothed in the process.

Her grandmother had gleefully told her the tale. The honorable and dutiful Starks had self-imploded, leaving Ned Stark no choice but to undo the damage. He took a Tully as his wife and raised his nephew after his brother and his Dornish wife died from a wilding attack of all things.

_"Wilding attack, they say. But, I am sure Rickard Stark had something to do with it. His children had humiliated him before the entire realm. The famous Stark honor no more as they decided to forsake their oaths. Oh how I would have loved to see Hoster’s face when the Stark Heir married the beautiful Lady Ashara instead and scorned his beloved Catelyn. But no matter, his daughter still became Lady Stark in the end.”_

_Margaery looked at her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns. All she wanted was to emulate her and one day have her own moniker. Already she had promised her that she would be Queen, and one day she knew, she would be known for more than being the Tyrell Rose._

_Olenna continued her tale as she twisted Margaery’s curls between her fingers,“Brandon and his wife died and Rickard refused to hand over their child to the Daynes. The Sword of the Morning himself was torn between his oaths and the child of his favorite sibiling. I wonder if Princess Elia had been alive whether she would have interfered. Ashara had been her closest friend and former lady in waiting. But alas she died in childbirth and Rickard got his way. The child some considered a bastard was raised North with a Grandfather who wanted to undo the humiliation that had befallen his House and with an Aunt who considered his existence sinful.”_

_“But, I thought the Stark Heir married Lady Ashara?”_

_Olenna hummed, “Yes, but those Northerns only marry in their precious Godswood. Only the Gods above know if those two did and well, the patriarch officiates the wedding. Rickard Stark was never going to do such a thing. But no matter, he declared his grandchild legitimate and betrothed him to Stannis Baratheon years later.”_

_Margaery had briefly meet the man once and she shivered. He was a decade her senior and she couldn’t imagine being married off to a man who never seemed to smile._

_Olenna caught the expression on her face and frowned, “Robert Baratheon’s whoring, drinking and fighting ensured his early grave. And so a boy who some consider a bastard will one day be Lord Consort of Storm’s End. Never forget that Margaery. Whether he will hold any power over the Stormland’s remains to be seen.”_

“Oh Grandmother, even in death he still holds so much power over us all,” Margaery whispered as she brushed her hair and applied her cosmetics. It was a task she liked doing on her own. Her appearance was something she could control and although Stannis refused to see her beauty, she would be damn if she let herself go.

Margaery is Queen and yet, her crown is symbolic. She held no sway in the Small Council and everyone knew Stannis barely tolerated her. Her hand gripped her brush and she took a breath.

She always envisioned herself as royalty, but in all her daydreams she saw Aegon Targaryen besides her. Oh, what a pair they would have made! They had been so close to securing a match and yet, it had all been for nothing. Harrenhal should have been her triumph; instead, the bastard appeared and ruined everything.

Years later and she can remember how everyone had stared in awe at the beauty that was Jon Stark. He had the Stark coloring with those raven curls and pale skin, but he had inherited his mother’s beauty. Lady Ashara Dayne had once been considered the most beautiful woman in Westeros and Margaery saw then why Brandon Stark ran away with her if their son’s looks were the results.

Even Stannis had stopped and stared. Although he had brushed away exclamations of his luck in one day having a beautiful Consort, his harsh exterior had soften in the presence of his betrothed.In a matter of days, if not hours, Jon had accomplished what seventeen years later still evaded her. He had earned Stannis’ respect and in time, his utter devotion.

Margaery hates herself sometimes for wanting to know how he did so. Stannis wasn’t interested in carnal pleasure. And no matter how much Magaery refers to him as a whore in the privacy of her own thoughts, she knows that it wasn’t the truth. Stannis wouldn’t hold his beloved wolf in such regard if Jon had been anything but virtuous.

She raised from her vanity and made her way to the King’s solar. Once again, Westeros was changing and although Stannis never asked for her council, she still needed to be seen. 

Their marriage was one of convenience. Her family’s wealth helped restore the treasury and in return, they were awarded for their loyalty by crowning her Queen.

_Blood money_, Wilas had once sneered. He had been against the sacking of Kingslanding to say nothing of Princess Rhaenys unfortunate death. Whatever friendship he had with The Red Viper torn to shreds, although their grandmother had seen it as fair turnabout for crippling her Heir.

She entered the solar, not that Stannis gave a damn. It only highlighted how little they had in common and so they both sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Margaery played with the tea in her hands and she doesn’t what pushed her to ask, but her thoughts from earlier come in full force.

She stared at Stannis, at the grimness of his face and asked, “What was he like?”

They both knew who she was referring to and for one wild moment, Margaery felt the decade old sting in her cheek. Early on in their marriage, she had made the mistake of referring to Jon as a slut and Stannis had backhanded her for it. They had both been surprised by his actions and yet, he never apologized. It was then that her hatred for them both grew.

For his part, Stannis gave her a cold blue eyed stare, “You've never asked about him, not once. Why now?”

Margaery just sighed and answered truthfully, “At first, just saying his name even in private felt like I was breathing life back into him. I thought if I didn't talk about him, he'd just fade away for you. When I realized that wasn't going to happen, I refused to ask out of spite. I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I cared enough to ask. And eventually it became clear that my spite didn't mean anything to you. As far as I could tell, you really don’t care.”

His face doesn’t even flicker, “So why now?”

Why now indeed, she wondered. Because she was sad. Because she was tired of living with ghosts and for one wild moment she wondered if this is what Catelyn Tully had felt in having Jon under her roof.

“What harm could Jon Stark's ghost do to either of us that we haven't done to each other a hundred times over?” She asked rhetorically.

Those cold blue eyes stare at her and she was somewhat surprised to see that he was taking her question seriously. And slowly, those eyes softened.

_Damn them both_, she thought, _and damn me too for being so foolish._

His smile was but a twist on his thin lips, “He was a contradiction of honor, wildness and fearlessness.”

For one moment, Stannis was transported back to Harrenhal. He remembered so vividly seeing Jon for the first time. His breathe caught at his beauty before he snapped back into himself. What was beauty if there was no substance? One had only to look at Cersei Lannister to know beauty was meaningless in the face of such arrogance.

But, Jon had shown himself to be more. Jon had been his precious Knight of the Laughing Tree, “He was the only thing I ever wanted. Someone took him away from me, and seven kingdoms couldn't fill the hole he left behind.”

Margaery for her part stared at Stannis. She saw those softened eyes and that smile. It was as if his mouth had remembered how to smile just now. And he had, hadn’t he? He had lost the only thing he ever wanted, her mind pointed out.

He went to war for him, cut down his kin for him and it was all for nothing. Robb Stark had arrived to the capital with his cousin’s body behind him.

And yet, the North still held so much sway. Stannis was ever so soft towards the remaining Starks. Something that Sansa Dayne as the Lady of Starfall took advantage of. Margaery has to give her credit where credit is due. It wasn’t easy to live on Dornish soil after the death of Aegon at the Trident. Although she knows the Martells have more enmity towards the Tyrells, especially after they sacked the city and Rhaenys was killed. The Dornish blame them for the death of their Princess, as if the Queen Mother Rhaella, Viserys and Daenerys hadn’t been killed as well.

But beyond Sansa, Margaery rarely gave the remaining Starks any thought. Her head was already occupied by Jon, her entire life beholden to his memory. If she paid anymore attention to the remaining wolves, she would truly go insane.

She finishes her tea and without any other word leaves the solar. Let Stannis mull over his obsession for a dead man! Margaery did not have the emotional capacity to deal with it any longer.

Instead, she walked around the Red Keep, ignoring the footsteps of her brother as he trailed behind her. She ignored the looks and kept wondering, her mind racing. Why today of all days was Jon Stark occupying her thoughts?

No, she is afraid to admit that he has never left her thoughts in the first place.

_“Would Renly not be a better choice?” Margaery asks. Granted Renly was beholden to her brother’s cock, but at least he wasn’t old enough to be her father. Stannis had never been a handsome man, but still…._

_Olenna shook her head and tutted at her foolishness, “Make no mistake my Rose, the Targaryens Dynasty will fall. Whatever romantic nonsense you have about Prince Aegon, you best be getting them out of your pretty little head. By kidnapping Jon Stark, he has signed his death warrant. This civil war will end with the death of all the Dragons.”_

_“I thought it was Ned and Arya Starks’ death that was the reason for the war.” She didn’t want to think that one single person could be the death of tens of thousands. Even now, she couldn’t get rid of the jealousy and envy she felt towards Jon for being the cause of the war._

_Would anyone ever fight under her name? Would anyone ever die for her love?_

_This time, her grandmother pinched her for her stupidity, “Arya Stark was a foolish child who ran off to challenge the Crown Prince, never once guessing that it would led to the death of both her and her father. What compelled King Rhaegar to order their deaths, I can’t even begin to imagine, but make no mistake, the loss of Jon Stark is their banner and the wolves and stags will fight to the last man to bring him back.”_

_“Hmph, and anyone with eyes could see how Stannis was gone for the boy. What Prince Aegon was thinking of kidnapping his betrothed….” Olenna trailed off. She was missing something, but what?_

_Jon Stark was beauty just like his mother before him and yet, she never would have imagined Stannis would lose his mind over him! She would have thought that if his cousin, the King, asked him to dissolve the betrothal and step aside for his Crown Prince, he would have. Stannis did love his duty above all else._

_Was Margaery onto something? If Arya Stark hadn’t run off to challenge Prince Aegon and her father hadn’t run after her, would there still be a war? Her thoughts were cut short by her granddaughter’s petulant tone and she inwardly sighed._

_“And so what? I will be married off to a man who is literally fighting a war to his beloved back? A man known for his loyalty to the Crown, who never broke fealty even under the reign of the Mad King? Grandmother, please-”_

_“Hush, child! The Baratheons will win this war, make no mistake. The North has no desire to rule a kingdom. When Robert was alive, he was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets. He'll break before he bends. And Renly, that one, he's copper, bright and shiny, pretty to look at but not worth all that much at the end of the day.”_

_She paused and willed her granddaughter to understand their position. Loras would have to be in the room for Renly to get her with child and she would not have any unsavory rumors surround the conception of her future great-grandchild._

_“Stannis has shown himself capable of betrayal and if need be, he will run his own brother through with his sword, if it got him one step closer to getting his wolf back. You will be Queen, my dear. Make no mistake of that.”_

_Queen of what, Grandmother? Queen of what? _She sighed, her thoughts already spiraling out of control.

She wore a crown, but had no real power. She was a mere ornament. From the moment, her Dragon Prince rode past her and laid a crown of winter roses on Jon’s lap, her life had changed.

And oh, how handsome he looked with his silver hair! She can still remember his fine form and purple eyes.

If only the Sword of the Morning had won instead! Even now, she can remember the horrified expression on his face as his Crown Prince declared his nephew the King of Love and Beauty. She remembers the silence and the insult paid to House Baratheon. Hells, she can remember the pinch faces of Lord and Lady Stark and the restrained fury on Stannis’ face.

Jon would marry Stannis and restore the honor his parents and aunt stripped from the Stark name. There was never any doubt about that, not even when he accepted the crown of winter roses and put it on his head. And Stannis wonders why she calls him a whore!

“This is where you want to spend your day? I thought you hated it?” Loras’ voice cuts through her thoughts and she looks up to see she in the Godswoods.

Stannis had it planted in the memory of his One True Northern Love. Margaery avoided it and always felt unwelcome amongst the trees.

And yet, here she was.

Was it full circle, she wondered. Would the ghost of Jon Stark follow her to the grave or would she be haunted by him even in the afterlife?

“Do you blame him?” She asked as she stared at the weirwood trees all around her.

“Don't you?” Her brother responded with no hesitation. He loved Renly and apart of him blamed Stannis for his death.

But mostly, he blamed that Northern whore who had destroyed so many lives. His oldest brother had distanced himself from them, ashamed of what had happened during the sacking. His sister was Queen and the crown had done nothing but bring her bitterness and heartache. Only their grandmother had been satisfied.

Why the hells she thought Margaery would ever hold any power over Stannis, he didn’t know. The old lady had probably lost it in her old age.

Stannis had the personality and look of a lobster and yet, he had overthrown an entire dynasty for love. No matter how fair Margaery was, she couldn’t compete with that.

Loras had eyes and he too had been drawn in by the Jon Stark’s beauty. But, he never understood what Stannis and Prince Aegon saw him beyond his face. All he remembered was how sullen andquiet he had been. He kept to himself and only spent time with his Uncles and his family. Maybe that was why he got along with Stannis? And yet, the only expression he remembered seeing on that pale face was when he placed the crown of winter roses on his head, insulting his House, his betrothed and Margaery in one single action.

“I am tired of it all to be honest,” Margaery whispered instead, “He is a corpse and I am a living girl, and yet, he loves him more than me.”

She felt Loras’ hand on her shoulder and accepted the gesture for what it was, “Grandmother was wrong, you know. About all of it. I wonder when we will all lose our lives and all because of our ambition and our vanity.”

Seventeen years later and here they were. They had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left a lot of things ambiguous on purpose and really wanted to leave it to the reader to fill in the blanks based on whatever headcanon they preferred.


	25. The King of Love and Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The price of arrogance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow-up to Ch. 24. Enjoy!

Jon Stark was fearless. Beautiful and independent. Of that Aegon had no doubt.

He was also stubborn and refused to yield to him. The most beautiful person in Westeros and yet, he was quite content to be married off the most boring man in all the Seven Kingdoms!

“He is old enough to be you father!” Aegon yelled, his purple eyes flashing at Jon.

For his part, Jon rolled his eyes at him. If it were anyone else, Aegon would have them flogged for the utter disrespect shown to him. But Jon was the exception. Since the moment he laid eyes on him, he hadn’t been able to look away.

“And yet,_ Prince_ Aegon,” Jon stressed his title, “I want to marry Stannis Baratheon. I don’t care that he is older and plain nor that he has a reputation as a utter bore. He is the man both my Grandfather and Uncle had intended for me to marry.”

He raised his chin in utter defiance. Prince Aegon was handsome of that there was no doubt. His silver hair and purple eyes were very arresting, but he wasn’t stupid. Wasn’t the Crown Prince engaged or soon to be engaged to the Tyrell girl?

Jon had seen her briefly and although pretty, both she and her grandmother seemed to be more interested in being royalty than anything else. He wished them the best of luck. Already the Southron courtiers were grating on his nerves with their flowery language that meant to convey both everything and nothing at all. The Game of Thrones Robb had called it and Jon didn’t know why they bothered. King’s Landing sounded suffocating.

If he wanted to watch his back at all times, he would stay in Winterfell under Catelyn’s cold fish eyes.

“Also, it’s in bad form to try to romance your cousin’s betrothed.” Jon added as he saw the Prince’s face redden in rage. Such a color was not healthy on a person.

“Try?!” Aegon yelled, enraged. Jon couldn’t be serious, could he? What could Stannis ever offer him? He was the Crown Prince and Jon would want for nothing. Any whispers of his supposed bastard status would be silenced. He was the acknowledged and legitimate grandson of Rickard Stark and the Daynes too recognized him as the son of the former Lady of Starfall. 

The Tyrells were basically graveling to have one of their own as Queen and yet, Jon wanted nothing to do with him. He preferred bring the Lord Consort of Storm’s End rather than being his.

And maybe that was his allure? That utter defiance? Jon didn’t see a walking talking crown when he looked at him; instead, he saw a person. Someone he could argue with and contradict. The more Jon resisted his charms, the more Aegon’s blood burned for him.

“Good day, Your Grace,” Jon added with graceful bow and left him standing there.

Aegon watched that slender figure walk off without a care in the world and never before had he wanted anyone as much as he wanted Jon Stark.

Three days later he fought hard to beat the Sword of the Morning himself. Jon was fearless and yet, his wildness was tempered by his honor and duty. He wasn’t Brandon Stark who ran off with a woman not his betrothed. He wasn’t Lyanna Stark who refused a marriage she didn’t want and escaped to Essos. He was more of Eddard Stark’s child than anyone would care to admit. He would do right by his family and for the Stark honor.

Aegon won and his purple eyes sought out those raven curls and lovely pale face. He was seated in the center, the direwolf banners all around him. Aegon ignored the stag ones and rode past the Tyrells.

He rode past his Baratheon cousins and ignored Rhaenys’ pleading eyes. Dany just shook her head as Viserys laughed in amusement. His Father did nothing, would do nothing. Aegon saw it all and yet, paid them no mind.

He was the Crown Prince and would one day be King. What was a Rose in comparison to a Wolf? Nothing, nothing at all and with a flicker of his wrist he dropped the crown of winter roses on Jon’s lap as silence descended upon them.

Amused purple eyes looked into grey. Indignation flared in those orbs and just liked Aegon predicted, Jon didn’t say a word. Wouldn’t say a word and further shame his family. He would do the right thing and not cause a scene. No matter how much he wanted to rage against him.

They both looked at each other and with the defiance Aegon loved, Jon placed the crown of winter roses on his head.

Aegon chose him.

The King of Love and Beauty.

The future of the Targaryen family.

May the Gods have mercy on them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may wrap up this mini-universe with one final chapter, which I am planning to be Stannis/Jon heavy.


	26. The End of All Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Ch. 24-25.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I liked Ch.26-27, I really wasn't happy with this story arch as I felt they should be one chapter. I finally decided to merge them.

“Stannis,” Davos tried to find the right words, but knew it wouldn’t make a difference, “Jon is missing. Lord Stark believes Prince Aegon kidnapped him against his wishes.”

The words almost didn’t register in Stannis’ mind. He just stared at Davos with wide eyes, unable to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. He fell unto his chair, the breathe taken out from his very lungs. 

Not his Jon.

His Targaryen cousins wouldn’t betray him that way. Not by taking the only person he loved with all his being.

Not his Stark wolf.

He sat down, the room quiet and all he could think of then was of Jon’s lovely face. Those wide grey eyes and that smile. How he looked at Stannis with clear affection. Out of all the men in the known world, Jon had chosen him. Their betrothal contract forgotten in the face of true companionship and love.

“Not my Jon,” Stannis whispered as he stared back at Davos, willing him to take back his words. Stannis would forgive him if it was all a jest. A jape. He would forgive anything and anyone as long as that statement proved to be false. As long as Jon was safe and whole at Winterfell, preparing for their wedding, Stannis would forgive. 

Davos just shook his head, now afraid. He never seen Stannis so small.

“Lord Stark sent his bannermen to search for them, but found nothing but Jon’s missing horse and a crown of winter roses. The youngest Stark, Rickard I believe, swears Prince Aegon is involved. Ever since Harrenhal, the Prince has sent him several ravens. Already rumors are swirling that Jon willing left with him-”

“**LIES!**” Stannis roared out, startling Davos, “Jon wouldn’t do that! He is honorable and true!”

Yes, his Jon was true. He would not run away from him, not after all they shared.

_“Chase me!” Jon implored as he gripped his hands and pulled him deeper into the woods._

_“This is quite childish,” Stannis grumpily complained and huffed when he saw those impish grey eyes look up at him._

_“You need to let loose once in awhile Lord Baratheon,” Jon stated. Hearing his formal title made Stannis roll his eyes._

_At first Jon had been shy and quiet in his presence. Always formal and yet, once they got a measure of one another, he used his name uncaring about the impropriety. “We are to be married anyways,” Jon told him when he brought up his informal manners, “And I don’t care what the Southrons care anyways. As if they didn’t do much worse things than refer to their betrothed by their first name.”_

That memory made his heart swell. With every word, Stannis fell more in love with him. Falling for Jon was so easy.

So effortless.

Although he had been quite jealous of the attention Prince Aegon paid Jon, he knew it didn’t mean anything. All it had done was made Jon uncomfortable. Anyone else would have been delirious with joy for the attention of a Crown Prince. Cersei Lannister had been so many years ago and the Tyrell chit was another. Both power hungry sluts with no substance. 

Jon was pure of heart. He didn’t care about titles nor the damn Game of Thrones. 

_“Alright, alright,” Stannis agreed and prepared himself to chase after his betrothed._

_Jon’s happiness at his acquiesce was all that mattered and he stilled as he felt Jon pressed his soft lips against his cheek._

_He looked down at his beloved wolf and was enchanted by those rosy lips and that smile. Against propriety, Stannis bent down to properly kiss him, but missed. In the wink of an eye, Jon had moved out the way with a laugh._

_“Not yet. A kiss _ _will be your reward if you catch me,” Jon shouted as he began to run deeper into the woods, “Come find me Stannis!”_

All Stannis wanted was Jon. Stannis was never more sure of anything in his life. Not even when Aegon insulted his house and Jon most of all by crowning him the King of Love and Beauty.It hadn’t meant anything. He knew it in his soul that Jon accepted out of obligation.

_“What did they expect me to do?” Jon angrily shouted, tears gathering his large grey eyes, “Throw the damn thing at him?!”_

_"Come find me Stannis."_

He closes his eyes and sees Jon’s wild raven curls in the wind. He can see his slender figure dart between the trees and hear his joyful laughter.

Stannis recalls with perfect clarity the moment he caught him. Can see that flushed face and those bright grey eyes. How soft and right his lips felt against his own.

Jon Baratheon, his beloved wolf.

Why would anyone take him from him?

_“Come find me Stannis.”_

“I will,” Stannis promised softly and stared at Davos such a cold hard look that it made the man in question shiver. A sense of foreboding swept through him and Davos feared for them all.

* * *

_"Come find me, Stannis."_

Those words haunted his every moment. When he closed his eyes all he could see was Jon's slender figure as he ran through the trees, his raven curls bouncing freely. His joyful laughter in being able to elude him made Stannis heart beat with joy. Stannis just needed to run faster and he would have his wolf in his arms where he belonged.

Stannis would catch him once again and this time he wouldn't let go. He would have Jon for the rest of his days. That was all that mattered. If he could hold Jon again, he would gladly give up an entire kingdom. The rebellion, the war and the lives he took, it was all for Jon. All to bring him home.

_"Come find me."_

He heard those words as he ordered the siege at King's Landing. He remembered Jon's wide grey eyes and his soft impish smile as he gathered his bannermen and fought along side Robb.

He saw Jon's lovely pale face as he drove his sword into Aegon's neck. The harsh blow dislodging the rubies on his armor. He kept hacking away at him, enraged in hearing him whisper Jon's name as blood sputtered from his mouth.

How dare he! How dare his lips form the name of the only person Stannis ever loved! But he didn't matter. Not really. Not when he was so close in being able to bring Jon home.

_"Come find me."_

"I will beloved," Stannis whispered as he entered the Red Keep victorious. Rhaegar's cold body laid before him as the Sword of the Morning himself stabbed him the back, finally remembering that it was the Daynes who held his true loyalty. The Targaryens broke fealty the moment their Prince kidnapped his own nephew.

But, it was too late.

**Why was it too late?!**

Stannis knew it when Davos refused to look him in the eye. He knew, but didn't want to believe. He still held onto the hope that he and Jon would be reunited.

But, Robb entered the city with a casket behind him and all Stannis could do was stare as his world fell apart.

His beloved wolf was gone. 

_"Come find me."_

And he screamed and screamed. He screamed until his voice gave out and the tears blinded him. He fell onto the ground, caring of who was around as he howled out his pain and anguish. Stannis rebelled. He fought and killed for Jon. All to bring him home.

_"Come find me."_

It had all been for nothing. 

Stannis had failed the only person who ever loved him. The only person he would ever love and Seven Kingdoms could never fill the hole he left behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After chatting with GreenPowerBank decided to do an offshoot of these chapters. In this new universe, Jon loved Aegon and went with him willingly. This offshoot is NOT connected to Ch.25-26. It will be its own storyline. I hope to update soon. Thanks for reading!


	27. The House of Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wielder of Dawn is always given the title of Sword of the Morning, and only a knight of House Dayne who is deemed worthy can carry it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Ch. 25. For Diana, who asked about the crown of winter roses scene.

Arthur knew his duty. Had known where his loyalties laid after putting on the White Cloak.

In his darkest moments, he blamed the Starks for the tragedy that had befallen his family. Brandon Stark dishonored his sister and than ran away with her. And although he married Ashara in secret what good had it done the Daynes after he failed to protect her? Both of them died and their child was raised by Rickard Stark instead. The Old Wolf may howl about honor, but why was it honorable to compel his children to loveless marriages and all to satisfy his pride and his own sense of superiority?

Arthur should have done more. He should have prevented the betrothal between Stannis and his nephew. By all the Gods, the age difference! His nephew was a pup and yet, it was on him to restore the honor Rickard lost the Stark name when he refused to listen to his children's wishes.

If only Queen Elia had lived! She loved Ashara as a sister and would have done right by her child. But as it was, Rhaegar's hands were tied.

Or so Arthur believed.

Jon held his sister's beauty and the Stark coloring only drew more attention to it. But that was all. He didn't have Ashara's wildness. He was dutiful and quiet, so much Ned Stark's son that it made Arthur feel guilty.

He blamed the Starks all this time, but he had been wrong. He had been blind. It was the Targaryens that damned his family. Rhaegar, his oldest and dearest friend, was just as mad his father before him and Aegon had inherited that same strand of insanity.

The Targaryens damned Jon the moment Aegon placed the crown of winter roses on Jon's lap. The moment Aegon took him from Winterfell against his wishes and after Rhaegar ordered the deaths of Lord Stark and his daughter.

They damned his family and all for a fucking prophesy.

Madness.

Arthur was surrounded by madness.

And he helped them by giving Aegon safe passage through Dorne.

Ashara would have killed him with her bare hands for his disloyalty to their family.

Instead, he believed Rhaegar over his own blood.

He believed in Aegon’s love for Jon.

No, not love. Obsession.

Arthur had been too blind to not see how much Jon cared for Stannis. That Stannis loved Jon was never in question. Anyone with eyes could see how he had been enchanted by his nephew.

Jon taken from Winterfell, held captive and just imaging Aegon’s hands on him made Arthur tremble in anger.

How stupid could he be?

That damn tourney!

The entire world had gone made since Harrenhal. If only he had won that day, maybe all of this unfolding tragedy could have been prevented.

The Starks murdered in cold blood as five hundred men and women stood and watched. As he stood back and watched.

He was the Sword of the Morning, deemed worthy of Dawn by his House. And yet, he betrayed them. Betrayed Jon.

“What are we doing Rhaegar?” Arthur finally asked as he approached the throne. He didn’t even care to use his proper title. They were all beyond that now.

The tide of the war had turned against them. Kings’ Landing was losing the siege and famine threatened them all. Soon they be overrun by the Stags and there would be no mercy.

The Battle at the Trident had cost them over thirty thousand men and if rumors were to be believed, Aegon was dead. Slain by Stannis and then hacked to pieces for daring to whisper the name of his beloved as he laid dying.

Arthur didn’t know what to feel. If relief or disgust. But more importantly, there was no word about Jon and he didn’t dare send out any ravens in case they were intercepted. Jon’s safety was paramount.

Even the news of Aegon’s possible death, did little to dissuade Rhaegar. No matter how much Princess Rhaenys pleaded to go to Dorne, he didn’t relent. Arthur wasn’t stupid. They both knew that as long as Rhaenys remained in the capital the Dornish would fight. No true Dornishmen would turn against their beloved Princess.

Arthur was at least grateful that the Queen Mother and Princess Daenerys had been able to flee to Dragonstone. He didn’t trust Viserys and the Tyrells, but he hoped their ambition would keep the last Targaryens safe.

“My grandfather King Jaehaerys married for love,” Rhaegar began. As if the entity of Westeros didn’t know that story, “But, against the pleas of his Queen and the obvious disinterest between his two children, he forced them to marry. The crown comes with a heavy price after all. Even if my grandfather had an inkling of what my father would do during his mad reign, he still would have made the same decision.”

“And you know why?” Bright indigo eyes looked up at him, “The Song of Ice and Fire! Once I thought it was me, so I picked up a sword and my armor and became a warrior. But time cured me of my arrogance. I did my duty and married Elia and the moment I held Aegon in my arms, I hoped. Oh, how I hoped that my son was The Prince that was Promised. All Elia had to do was give birth to one more daughter and yet, she couldn’t even do that. Weak as she was. Maybe my father was right and it was all that Dornish blood.”

Arthur stared at Rhaegar in growing horror. It was as if the Rhaegar he knew, the Rhaegar he had loyally followed for decades was gone. Or maybe he had never existed.

Maybe Arthur had been blinded for so many years.

“You should be proud Arthur, so proud of Jon. He has the blood of the First Men in his veins. Twice over that pure blood runs through him!The Starks should have accepted that it was only right for Aegon to marry Jon. Hells, Stannis should have accepted his own irrelevance. But no matter, Jon is the key.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked, his eyes flashing with fury.

"There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be The Prince that was Promised come again, and the darkness shall flee before him,” Rhaegar repeated reverently.

“A union of Ice and Fire!” He declared grandly. “Aegon may be dead, but hopefully, he didn’t fail like his mother before him and ensured his blood passed onto Jon’s child.”

A prophesy.

Their tragedy was all due to a fucking prophesy.

What had Arthur done?!

“You are insane,” he whispered as Rhaegar smiled up at him.

He had damned Jon. He claimed to love him when he didn’t even know him. Arthur had abandoned him to the North once and then to the Targaryen madness. Ashara would been ashamed of him. Enraged by his actions towards her beloved star.

“I should have done this long ago,” Arthur whispered as he stepped up to the throne and with one quick move, used Dawn to gut Rhaegar. Those familiar purple eyes looked up at him in disbelief and betrayal.

Like he couldn’t believe Arthur would do such a thing.

But Rhaegar had betrayed him first.

Jon hadn’t deserved his faith.

Arthur plunged Dawn deeper, ignoring the blood staining his pristine white cloak.

He was the Sword of the Morning, deemed worthy by his House and yet, he forgotten his loyalty to his family.

He looked down at Rhaegar’s lifeless eyes and cried. He cried for a friend he thought he was knew, he cried for his sister.

And Jon!

Oh Jon!

And that was how they found him. Rhaegar’s dead body kneeled before him, his blood flowing all around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for whether Jon had a child, I don't think so. Rhaegar is just a raving madman at the end. I really like exploring the pov of different characters and will try my best to continue to do so.


	28. Ghostly Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis stands before the Godswoods and remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Ch. 24-27. Inspired by a Tokyo Ghoul song, White Silence.

Stannis stands before the Godswoods. Sometimes he enters and walks amongst the trees. Other times, he stands, looking in, unable to move. He stands, tears running down his face as he relives the memories that continue to haunt him.

He knows almost no one dares to enter, everyone in this Godforsaken cesspool of a city aware of how sacred the Godswoods was. Stannis had it made for Jon. For his Northern beauty who died before his time.

Who was cruelly taken away from him.

He relives the last time he saw Jon. The last time he held him in his arms. Stannis closes his eyes and touches his thin, dry lips. He recalls the first and only time he kissed Jon. How soft those full lips felt against his own.

How those grey eyes looked at him with so much love. His pale skin flushed from the chase he had led Stannis on.

Stannis sees it so clearly in his mind’s eye and his heart aches to hold on a bit longer to those illusions.

His Stark wolf so full of life and contradictions.

Sweet, but withdrawn.

Wild, but honorable and true.

So stubborn, but yet so shy.

So fucking beautiful that it made Stannis’ palms sweat.

And suddenly, Stannis is overcome with the urge to run.

So he runs.

Runs into the woods without care. Runs wildly in all directions trying to hold onto those few precious memories.

He wants to hear the carefree laughter and see the slender figure dart between the trees. But, it is only Stannis now.

Only ever Stannis.

His harsh breathing the only sound as he runs about, no destination in mind. Only he exists in that very moment and the silence around him, the trees and greenery enrages him until he screams.

Stannis howls out his rage and all he can see is Jon’s back as he runs. His laughter long ago filling the air around him. And yet, only silence greets his cries.

Never again will Stannis hear that carefree laugh.

Stannis failed.

He wasn’t able to bring him home. And not once did he dare suggest to Robb to have Jon buried here. Jon was of the North, proud of his 8,000 year old lineage and Stannis knew how much he hated the South. So he watched as that damned casket carried Jon away, taking all of Stannis’ joy with him.

Taking Stannis’ heart.

“Jon,” he whispers, his throat raw.

Only the silence answers him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this particular story arch ends in full circle. Now onto the next mini-universe.


End file.
